


An Unexpected Road Trip: One Day I'll Remember

by FarGreenCountrySwiftSunrise



Series: An Unexpected Road Trip [3]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Acorn Feels (Tolkien), Acorn Scene (Hobbit Movies), Altered Mental States, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No One Ring, Alternate Universe - Road Trip, Alternate Universe - Shapeshifters, American Government Incompetence, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Romance, Angst with a Happy Ending, Awesome Bofur, Awesome Dwalin, Awkward Bilbo, Awkward Bilbo Baggins, Awkward Conversations, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Romance, Awkward Thorin, Awkward Thorin Oakenshield, Awkwardness, BAMF Bilbo Baggins, Bilbo is So Done, Bilbo is an idiot, Bofur is a Sweetheart, Canon-Typical Violence, Colonization, Creepy, Creepy Smaug, Dale - Freeform, Disasters, Discussions of Colonization, Do Not Separate The Heirs Of Durin, Dragon Sickness, Dwalin & Thorin Oakenshield Friendship, Dwalin Is A Softie, Emotionally Constipated Thorin, Erebor, Eucatastrophe, Everybody Lives, F/M, Family, Family Drama, Family Feels, Female Bard, Female Bard the Bowman, Female Bilbo Baggins, Female Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Female Bombur, Female Dori, Female Friendship, Female Fíli, Female Glóin, Female Nori (Tolkien), Female Ori, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Gandalf Is So Done, Gandalf Meddles, Gandalf Ships It, Gen, Gender or Sex Swap, Gold Sick Thorin, Gold Sickness (Tolkien), Grumpy Bilbo Baggins, Grumpy Thorin, Heavy Angst, Humor, Hurt Bilbo Baggins, Idiots in Love, Injury, King Thorin, Kissing, Laketown, Major Character Injury, Male Friendship, Male-Female Friendship, Manipulation, Mental Anguish, Mental Breakdown, Mental Disintegration, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Mother Hen Dori, Motherhood, Mutually Unrequited, Paranoia, Poor Bilbo, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Thorin, Protective Bilbo Baggins, Protective Bofur, Protective Dwalin, Protective Legolas, Protective Legolas Greenleaf, Protective Siblings, Protective Thorin, Protectiveness, References to Monty Python, References to Shakespeare, Requited Love, Road Trips, Romance, Rule 63, Shakespeare Quotations, Shapeshifting, Siblings, Sweet Bofur, Team as Family, The Arkenstone is Bad News, The Lonely Mountain, Thilbo, Thorin Feels, Thorin Is Not Amused, Thorin Is an Idiot, Thorin is a Softie, Thorin-centric, Threats of Violence, United States, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Unresolved Tension, War, Widowed, bagginshield, fem!Bilbo, this is going to hurt, trigger warning, tw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:35:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 36,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23526241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FarGreenCountrySwiftSunrise/pseuds/FarGreenCountrySwiftSunrise
Summary: Smaug is let loose on the residents of Laketown. Orcs and Elves are tracking down the Company. Thorin is falling more and more under the sway of the gold sickness.  Will the quest to reclaim Erebor destroy all that is held dear to Bramble and the Company? Modern Hobbit AU, Fem!Bilbo, and Bagginshield.
Relationships: Bard the Bowman/Bard the Bowman's Wife, Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Dís/Dís's Husband, Kíli (Tolkien)/Tauriel (Hobbit Movies)
Series: An Unexpected Road Trip [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/121332
Comments: 37
Kudos: 41





	1. Chapter I: Water, Water Every Where

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warnings: Inadequacies of the American government in response to an emergency, depictions of a magical mental illness (which means a magical cure combined with the fact I have zero psychological training), and a partner threatening violence during an episode of mental illness. 
> 
> A/N: Bramble inspired by notbecauseofvictories on Tumblr for [her Angel Coulby photo set](http://notbecauseofvictories.tumblr.com/post/40758363878/angel-coulby-as-bilbo-bramble-baggins-burglar).

BbBbBbBbBbBbBb

Thorin Oakenshield, heir to the Throne of Erebor, stood at the gates of his home and watched the burglar run towards him.

“SMAUG IS GOING TO LAKETOWN! WE HAVE TO STOP HIM!” the Hobbit yelled as she ran to him.

She tripped to a stop in front of Thorin. “We have to stop him!”

“What can we do, Hobbit? Even our best weapons did nothing,” Thorin said.

“That doesn’t mean we can’t do something! Distract him long enough to let some of the people escape!” the burglar said.

“It is better if we bar the gates here than help a town already burning.”

Something changed in the Hobbit. She stood up straighter, her breathing evened, and her eyes flashed with anger. “So, this is what Dwarves are? They hide in their mountains seeking riches; they care nothing for the troubles of others. I should have stayed with the Elves.”

Thorin grabbed the Hobbit by her shoulders. “What did you say?”

“Lord Elrond gave us shelter, food, and knowledge despite Dwarves being long-standing rivals. He healed your sister _who is still in Laketown_. Even King Thranduil, the man who let your people burn and starve, kept his prisoners nourished and clean. In my books, Elves certainly score higher in the common decency department of life.”

Thorin growled at her. “I will not have a pointy-ear outscoring me.”

The Hobbit bared her teeth and growled back. “Prove it to me, Oakenshield. Defend those who cannot defend themselves. Show yourself for what you are: a man of honor.”

Thorin could hear the others coming up behind him. “What are your orders?” Dwalin said.

A haze lifted from Thorn’s eyes. Bramble stood before him. Her hair and clothes were singed, but her eyes were still as bright as ever. Whatever desire he had to hide in the mountain receded. He spoke to her softly, hoping the others would not hear. “What would you have me do, Bramble?”

“I think Smaug blocked the river. Don’t you see? It’s flowing some, but I don’t think it’s enough,” Bramble whispered. She wrapped her hands around Thorin’s wrists. “We need to get the river flowing again. At the least Smaug will know we are causing him trouble. At best…”

“… if he is somehow felled, he will drown.”

“There is a chink in his armor, just by his heart on the left side. It can be done,” Bramble said. She did not notice the thrush listening to their conversation.

Thorin kissed the Hobbit’s forehead. “Brilliant Bramble.” He turned towards the Company. “Balin, do you remember how to make dynamite?”

“Aye. Should have the materials at the forges,” Balin said.

Thorin looked down at Bramble feet and sighed. “You are going to lose your feet standing out here without shoes.” He picked Bramble up in a bridal carry as they made their way back to the forges, some of the others running ahead.

Bramble smacked Thorin’s shoulder. “For the love of the powers that be Thorin, I’m not five!”

“Then stop acting like it.”

“Only if you do first!”

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Finally, Thorin put Bramble down once they were in Erebor again. Bramble made her way next to Balin. She nodded towards Thorin. “What happened to him? His eyes seem strange sometimes.”

“Lass, we need to focus on the dragon first, then Thorin,” Balin said.

“There is something wrong with Thorin?” Bramble said.

“… I don’t know, but we’ll all be dead if this doesn’t work,” Balin said.

BbBbBbBbBbBbBb

The group split up. Balin took Bombur, Ori, Dori, and Nori to the forges to create dynamite. The other half went to the source of the river inside the mountain. Bramble kept close to Thorin, unsure of what to make of him. He seemed normal now, but only a few minutes before he was in despair and a short time earlier almost deranged.

The river came from the heart of the mountain from some unknown spring. Kíli had mentioned he wanted to send robots down to explore the depths of the source of the river once they reclaimed Erebor. The river was blocked by massive boulders carelessly tossed about, allowing some water to leak through. The water was up to their knees if they trudged along the center.

Glóin pointed to what seemed to be a second source. “Erebor redirected part of the river to give water to the kingdom and the forges. When we got the water working in the forge, we got some of the water back. It’s probably barely reaching Laketown.”

The Hobbit did not mean to shriek when she tripped over bones. “SORRY! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to step on you!”

Bifur yanked Bramble back. Thorin knelt next to the body. “This is not a Dwarf of Erebor.”

“How do you know?” Bramble asked.

He held up a cell phone. “I deduced it, my dear Watson.” He began carefully looking through pockets.

“I don’t think you should listen to Miracle Max about searching through pockets for loose change,” Bramble said.

“The left hand is missing. Mortal Men wear a ring on their left hand to show they are married, generally a gold band. I think a dragon would take it,” Thorin said. He found a wallet and sighed. He passed the phone and wallet to Glóin. “Keep this safe until it can be returned to Mrs. Bargeman. We will try to recover the body if the river does not destroy it.”

Bramble covered her mouth. “It’s Mr. Bargeman?”

“Unfortunately. Dwalin, tell your brother the way is clear, and we can start placing the explosives,” Thorin said.

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“We have a problem,” Balin said after they had placed the explosives into the makeshift dam, “We don’t have a long enough fuse to be at a safe distance when this goes off.”

“Could someone run the distance to safety, wherever it is?” Nori asked.

Balin said after a moment of reluctance, “Maybe.”

“Who’s the fastest one here?” Dwalin said.

Bramble raised her hand. “Me. Don’t make me list my credentials, we don’t have the time. Someone give me a match or something.”

Glóin grunted and tossed a box of waterproof matches. Bramble nodded to the group and glared at Thorin. “No time. I will come back. Now RUN!”

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Bramble took three deep breaths. _I can do this. I have faced a dragon. A little match is nothing._

Still, her hands shook as she struck the match, the heat of the flame so close to her skin. She dropped the match away from the fuse and let out a silent scream of frustration.

_You are a strong, independent Hobbit who is not afraid of a tiny bit of flame!_

Bramble struck the second match. Though her hands shook, she was able to place it next to the fuse and it lit.

“I DID IT! YES! OH CRAP! RUN!”

The Hobbit ran as fast as she could over the rocks and debris.

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Bifur grabbed Bramble’s arm just as she ran next to the Company’s safe distance from the blast. He pushed her against the wall just as the dynamite exploded.

The ground shook from the force of the explosion. Water rushed past the Company, lapping at their feet. Balin stuck his head out of the alcove and squinted down river. “I THINK IT WILL REACH LAKETOWN IN A FEW MINUTES!”

“WHAT DID YOU SAY?” Dwalin shouted.

“WHAT DID YOU SAY?” Balin said.

“WHAT IS ANYONE SAYING?” Ori said.

Bifur signed. “ _The blast messed with all of our hearing. We won’t hear properly for some time if it ever fully recovers_.”

“ _Thank you, Bifur,_ ” Thorin signed back.

"WHAT’S EVERYONE SAYING? I UNDERSTOOD ‘THANK YOU BIFUR’ AND THAT’S ABOUT IT,” Bramble said.

“WE NEED TO GET TO HIGHER GROUND AND SEE IF IT WORKED!” Balin said.

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Thorin kept his arm around Bramble’s shoulder as they made it up the watchtower. She shook and was not hearing much of anything, but she was alive and otherwise unharmed. The Dwarf froze when they were a few steps from the platform of the ruined tower.

“Come on,” Bramble said, no longer shouting as she tried to pull Thorin further up.

Thorin tightened his hold. “Please, don’t.”

“I can’t ignore this happening. I have to see this.”

He shook his head. “Please don’t ask me to do this. Not again.”

It took Bramble a moment to realize what the again meant. “Oh, Thorin. I didn’t mean to. I’ll stay. I promise. I won’t make you watch this again.”

Thorin pulled Bramble into a hug and shielded her from looking towards Laketown. He kept his eyes on Erebor. It was steady in a world turning on its head. He could feel Bramble saying something, but it was too soft for him to hear properly.

_Erebor. Just focus on the gates. Don’t think about what’s behind you. Don’t think about the ruin inside. Just Erebor. Just focus on Erebor._

A thunderous crash pulled Thorin out of his thoughts. Bramble pulled away and ran up the stairs to investigate. Thorin could not follow.

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“What was that? What happened?” Bramble asked as she made it to the platform. She gasped when she how Laketown was either under water or on fire. There was no dragon in sight.

“It fell. I saw it. It’s dead. Smaug is dead,” Ori said.

“By my beard,” Dwalin said.

Something flew past Bramble’s head and towards what her maps had said to be Ravenhill.

“The ravens of Erebor are returning to the mountain,” Óin said.

Balin nodded. “Aye. Word will spread. Before long, every soul in Middle-Earth will know, the dragon is dead.”  
“So comes snow after fire and even dragons have their endings,” Bramble said, though the words tasted more of ash than victory. When she turned around, Thorin was already walking towards Erebor, his shoulders hunched over.

The Hobbit ran after him, catching up when they were almost to the river. “Thorin! Didn’t you hear?”

“I did,” Thorin said, his voice rough.

“Shouldn’t we wait for the others? Maybe send some of them out to find if there are survivors or call for help so we can…”

“No.”

“No, what?” Bramble said.

Thorin grabbed Bramble’s hand and dragged her to the gates. “There were no survivors. I know this. We need to find the Arkenstone.”

“You cannot possibly know!” Bramble said.

“I can and I do. We need to find the Arkenstone and protect the gold. It is the only way we will survive,” Thorin said.

Bramble stubbed her foot on a boulder and yelped in pain. Thorin picked her up and continued his quick pace. “I promise you, dear burglar, no harm shall come to you. We will find the Arkenstone and be safe.”

The Hobbit clung to Thorin so she would not fall. “We should wait…”

“The sooner we find it, the sooner we will be safe,” Thorin said.

Bramble shook her head, but said nothing. Once Thorin sat down and thought the situation over, he would see reason. He was just scared and needed space from the disaster in Laketown. The Hobbit had to believe the Company in Laketown survived. Space and time would bring Thorin around again.

BbBbBbBbBbBbBb

It didn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Welcome back to An Unexpected Road Trip! Thank you for continuing to read this and suffering through the dragon sickness portion of our programming. Tissues are to your left and shock blankets are to your right. Tea will be served upon request. Enjoy!
> 
> For those wondering about the long break, I have had a lot happen in my personal life including the appearance of several chronic illnesses. I am currently also working on getting published with my original fiction. I still plan to finish this series. If I am for some reason unable to finish the series, I will post a summary of Part IV.
> 
> I found [the perfect post](http://fargreencountryswiftsunrise.tumblr.com/post/159163224823/tolkienpressure-tolkien-pressure-180200#notes) for summing up the series. 
> 
> If it is unclear: 
> 
> Female – Bramble “Bilbo” Baggins, Dís, Fíli, Bombur, Glóin, Dori, Nori, Ori, and Bard.
> 
> Male – Thorin, Kíli, Óin, Balin, Dwalin, Bifur, and Bofur.
> 
> [Playlist for One Day I’ll Remember](https://fargreencountryswiftsunrise.tumblr.com/post/614710006167797760/playlist-for-an-unexpected-road-trip-one-day-ill)
> 
> [Fan Cast](https://fargreencountryswiftsunrise.tumblr.com/post/614710142980784128/an-unexpected-road-trip-one-day-ill-remember-fan)


	2. Chapter II: Even Dragons Have Their Endings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who would win in a fight?
> 
> One living embodiment of fire and death...
> 
> OR
> 
> ...
> 
> one angry Mom fighting with a stick and a string from the Paleolithic era?
> 
> (A barrel of fish for anyone who gets the reference.)

BbBbBbBbBbBbBb

Dis had been gone for only a few moments when she came running back into the house. As she picked up her weapons, Dís said, “Come on. We have a dragon to slay.”

Fili, Bofur, and Óin joined Dis in gathering what little weaponry they had. Sigrid found the hunting rifle and the long bow her Mother kept locked in her bedroom. “She locks the ammunition in a different vault, and I don’t have the combination to it.”

“Good woman. I can find something easily enough when I go fetch her,” Dis said.

Kíli limped out of Bard’s bedroom as he leaned against Tauriel. “Pass me a weapon,” he said. He hissed in pain every other step.

“Not until you are in the truck. You are in no shape to fight,” Dis said, “Fili, stay with your brother and get the rest out of here. I’m going to get Bard.”

“We’ll follow you, my lady,” Bofur said.

Dis stalked outside to the truck and started the engine. “No, you’re not. Óin, the wounded will need you. Bofur, Captain Tauriel, you need to provide cover while you get them out. Warn everyone you can, but do not stop moving.”

Bain tried to take the Black Arrow from Dis, but the Dwarf tackled him. “Bain, don’t you dare Your mother doesn’t want this! She wants you safe! Protect your sisters. Get them out of here! I’ll protect your mother. Please, Bain.”

The boy nodded.

“Good, lad,” Dis said. She helped the Bargeman children get into the van. Sigrid took the wheel as she knew the town better than the rest.

“Amad,” Fili said.

Dis put a hand on each of her children. “I will make sure the dragon doesn’t catch you. I love you both very much.”

Lady Dis than ran towards the center of town to the jail. She tried to blame her tears on the smoke from the fires.

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Bard filled the air with curses as the Master and his men abandoned her to the flames engulfing Laketown. She kicked at the door and jammed-up her knee in her efforts. The Mortal Woman had no pins and no knife. Best case scenario, she was going to die of smoke inhalation. Worst case, well, dragon.

The door to the sheriff’s office swung open. Dis daughter of Thráin stood in the doorway with the Black Arrow and a menagerie of weapons. “Want to bust out of here?”

“Where are my children?” Bard snarled.

Dis opened the cell door. “They are getting out of Laketown. There is too much to explain. Basically, we need to get to the Dwarvish Wind-Lance and kill Smaug.”

Bard took the long bow and arrows from Dis as they ran out into the streets. Dis pointed to the courthouse with the Black Arrow. “Unfortunately, the building’s first floor is on fire and we can’t get in by any doors. I don’t know how…”

“Follow me. We’re going roof hopping,” Bard said.

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Sigrid slammed on the breaks and reversed as a building fell in front of them on the road. “YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME! THERE IS ONLY ONE WAY OUT OF TOWN NOW!”

“Just keep driving, Ms. Bargeman,” Tauriel said.

“Who taught you to drive?” Kíli said as he clutched his jostled leg.

“My Granny! She drove monster trucks! NOW SHUT UP AND NO BACKSEAT DRIVING!” Sigrid did a tight three-point turn and sped to the center of town.

Bofur tugged at the young princess’s sleeve. “Uh, Fíli, is it my imagination or are we heading _towards_ the dragon?”

“I SAID NO BACKSEAT DRIVING!”

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Bard’s quick reflexes yanked Dis from a nasty fall. The Mortal Woman said, “Haven’t you done this before?”

“I am not a fluttering Elf! I can’t defy physics for the fun of it!” Dis said.

“Give me a boost!” Bard said as they reached the town hall roof.

The Dwarf frowned at something she saw in the streets. “Is the Master taking an SUV full of gold with him? What. An. Idiot.”

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Tauriel kept Kíli pinned to the bed of the truck as they made a sudden stop to avoid an SUV. “HEY! I’M DRIVING HERE!” Sigrid said.

“Where is he? Where is the dragon?” Kíli said.

Before the Elf could answer, Smaug glided right above them and set aflame another row of houses.

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“Do you know how to work this thing?” Bard asked.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON’T KNOW HOW TO WORK THIS? YOU’RE GIRION’S HEIR!” Dis said with more than a little panic in her voice.

“JUST BECAUSE I KNOW HOW TO USE A COUPLE OF STICKS AND STRING DOESN’T MEAN I KNOW HOW TO USE _THESE_ COUPLE OF STICKS AND STRING!”

Smaug roared from above and attacked the SUV which had the Master in it.

“Okay, this is bad,” Bard said.

“It can’t be that complicated. As you said, sticks and strings,” Dis said.

Bard and Dis hooked the Black Arrow onto the wind-lance. The dragon stalked towards them.

“Who are you that would stand against me?” Smaug sneered.

“Come on,” Bard said as she tried to turn the wind-lance towards the dragon. The wheels which turned the device were rusted shut away from the dragon.

Smaug laughed. “Well that is a pity. What will you do now, bowman? You are forsaken. No help will come.”

There was a sound which both Bard and Dis thought was out of place in the desert: rushing water. The lake began to rise faster.

Smaug made a face of disgust and flew up and away from the water.

“Oh, thank goodness. Finally, something went our way,” Dis said.

Half of the town hall collapsed and caused the wind-lance to fall on its side. “NEVER SAY ANYTHING LIKE THAT AGAIN!” Bard said as she clung to the railing.

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“We have to go back! The wind-lance is falling!” Bain said.

“We can’t. The water is too high. We have to get to higher ground,” Sigrid said as she choked back tears.

“But they’re so close! We have to do something!” Bain said.

“We are, lad,” Bofur said, “We’re keeping you lot safe so your Mums won’t worry about you.”

BbBbBbBbBbBbBb

“We need to get Smaug right in front of us,” Bard said as she tried to adjust the wind-lance again, “If we can get him right there, we could hit his weak point.”

“We don’t even know it exists! We just have to hope for the best,” Dis said as she tried to think up some good insults to bring Smaug towards them.

Out of the dark, something fluttered to Bard’s shoulder. She startled, but it was only a thrush. Unafraid, it perched by her ear and said, “Greetings, Bard, descendant of Girion. I bring you news.”

“YOU CAN TALK!” Bard said.

“Who can talk? The bird? I don’t hear anything,” Dis said. She gasped. “It was said the Lords of Dale were blessed to understand the languages of birds because of their kind rule. It must be true, or you finally lost it!”

“Let’s hope it’s the first,” Bard said, “What news, thrush, as I assume this is not a social visit.”

“The moon still shines,” the bird said, “Look for the hollow of the left breast as he flies and turns above you. The Hobbit saw it while confronting the dragon.”

Bard looked up. She could barely see it, but there was one flaw in the dragon’s mighty armor.

“So, the story is true?” Dis said.

“We need to get him coming straight towards us,” Bard said.

“I will lead him to you. My kin long to return to our home and we cannot do such while the dragon lives,” the thrush said.

The bird flew into the sky towards the dragon. It dove down towards the town, the dragon chasing after it. The thrush flew past Bard’s shoulder.

Smaug laughed as it saw the two women struggling. “I thought I knew that particular smell of fear. I have killed the Mortal Woman’s mate and many of the Dwarf’s kin. They reeked of cowardice.”

“Many but not all! You haven’t killed us yet! I’d hate to see such a pathetic creature not even complete one thing!” Dis said. She shot at the dragon with her handgun. She guessed correctly it would not do any harm, but it did cause Smaug to correct his course towards them slightly enough to be right in front of the wind-lance.

“Tell me wretch, how now shall you challenge me? You have nothing left but your death,” Smaug said.

Dis jumped and fell into the water to give Bard a clear shot. Bard released the Black Arrow.

It found its mark.

The dragon fell as did the town hall.

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Sigrid brought the car to a halt when she heard the Elf say, “The dragon has fallen!”

The townsfolk able to flee in their cars came to a stop as well. There was no dragon. Only a burning town being consumed by water.

“It’s dead?” Tilda asked.

“It is. Mrs. Bargeman brought it down with the Dwarvish wind-lance,” Tauriel said.

“Your eyes are as sharp as they are beautiful,” Kíli said.

The Elf seemed slightly embarrassed by the Dwarf’s compliment.

Bofur mumbled, “I thought you had better lines than that, Kíli.”

“What do we do now?” Bain asked.

Fili stood up in the truck bed as she searched through the smoke and flame, but did not see who she searched for. “We go to the edge of the lake, wherever it is, and try to find survivors. I think there are people trying to get to shore.”

Everyone sat back down in the truck and drove as far as the could towards the ruins of Laketown. Even the darkest nights had a dawn, but dawn was still a long way off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The dragon is dead, but his destruction remains.
> 
> Translations of Khuzdul - Thanks to [khuzdul4u](http://khuzdul4u.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Amad - Mother.


	3. Chapter III: The Least of All My Fears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the author is still ships Kili/Tauriel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Chapter title taken from the lyrics of “Barton Hollow” by The Civil Wars.

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The sunlight barely filtered through the clouds and smoke. The people of Laketown staggered around as they tried to drag people out of the newly returned Long Lake or salvage supplies. A ragtag group of Dwarves, Mortal Men, and a lone Elf were amongst the Lakemen.

“AMAD!”

“MA!”

“AMAD!”

“MRS. BARGEMAN!”

“DIS!”

“MA!”

“DIS GET YOUR WHIPPERSNAPPER BUTT OUT OF THAT LAKE BEFORE I DRAG YOU OUT OF THERE!”

“MA!” Tilda rubbed her eyes. “Why can’t we find Ma?”

“We will find her,” Tauriel said placing her hand on Tilda’s shoulder, “It just may take a bit.”

“But what if… what if…” Tilda began to cry. Sigrid and Bain went to comfort their sister.

“Ma will be alright,” Sigrid said, “She has to be alright.”

“Of course, I’m alright,” Bard said as she staggered out of the Lake with Dis, “I’m your Ma. Of course, I’m going to be alright.”

There were screeches of joy as the two women were tackled by their respective children. Bofur and Óin fussed over Dis checking her over for injuries. Tauriel examined Bard.

“Bard,” Dis said.

“Yes?”

Dis groaned and rubbed her lower back. “Let’s never do that again.”

“Agreed,” Bard said.

“You slew the dragon, Ma?” Bain asked.

Before Bard could answer, Dís said, “Indeed she did. The aim of Men was true this day. Thank you, Bard the Dragon Slayer.” She shouted. “ALL HAIL BARD THE DRAGON SLAYER, LADY OF DALE!”

Bard made noises of protest before the surviving Laketown residences swarmed her. The Dwarves made their way towards the edge of the Lake to find some sort of transportation.

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“Lady Dis, about our bargain,” Bard said. The crowd had dispersed, and the Dwarves tended to the boat they had found.

“What of it?” Dis asked. She kept her eye on Kíli who spoke with the Elf captain.

“My request is for you to make us look favorable to your brother. He is to be Dale’s ally,” Bard said.

“I cannot make my brother, let alone my king, do anything,” Dis said.

“You swore upon the bones of the first Dwarves that the Line of Durin would be in my debt.”

Dis flinched and looked to the ground. “I did.”

“To fulfill your promise, your brother must do the same, or I sense bad things will continue to happen. I already know you lied once to my people. Do not let it happen again.”

“I have no idea…”

Bard grabbed Dís’ shoulder. “The Green Dragon is an inn and bar in the Shire. Do not take me for a fool. Do this for me and I will hold your oath fulfilled.”

The Dwarf said through gritted teeth, “Fine.” She pulled away from Bard and stalked off to the boat to push off.

BbBbBbBbBbBbBb

“Kíli! Stop dallying! We need to get this boat working,” Fili said as she banged her fist against the engine of a speedboat which had been owned by one of the wealthier residences of Laketown for vacations.

The young Dwarf looked at his sister before turning back to the Elf. He was about to speak, but Tauriel spoke first. “They are your people. You must go.”

“Come with me,” Kíli said, “I know how I feel. I’m not afraid. This is what the stories always talk about when you find your One. Like you can do and would do just about any task. Anything is possible. You make me feel alive.”

“I can’t,” Tauriel said as she turned away.

“Tauriel… Amrâlimê.”

The Elf’s breath caught. “I don’t know what that means.”

“I think you do,” Kíli said with a grin.

Tauriel sensed a familiar presence behind her. “Legolas! You’re alright!”

Legolas nodded. He looked weary and one of his shirt sleeves was torn. “I see you were able to save him.”

“She’s good at it. Second time she’s done it,” Kíli said with a proud smile.

“I am afraid I have ill news, Tauriel. I need your help,” Legolas said.

“I fear we both have to go, my lady. Wait, just a moment,” Kíli said. He hobbled over to the edge of the lake and picked through rocks.

“ _What is he doing?_ ” Legolas asked in Sindarin.

“ _I have no idea_ ,” Tauriel replied.

Kíli came back with a smooth, black stone in his hand. If polished, it might have been the same as his mother’s token to him. He placed the stone in Tauriel’s hand, holding her hand with both of his. “Keep it as a promise.”

Tauriel stared wide-eyed as the Dwarf kissed her hand. He stepped away and bowed before running to the boat. Kíli watched Tauriel as he rode the boat to the distant shore.

BbBbBbBbBbBbBb

“Please tell me you included oars in this wreck,” Dis said as she clung to the edge of the boat as the engine began to sputter.

“Two oars, a shovel, and a plank, Amad,” Fili said.

“Good. Good. Urg.” Dis closed her eyes. “Are we almost to shore?”

“Nearly, ma’am,” Bofur said.

“Who decided it was a good idea to let Óin drive?” Dis asked.

“No idea,” Kíli said.

The lady Dwarf glared at her son. “And you. Did my eyes deceive me or were you flirting with that Elf?”

“Prince Legolas? Why, Mother, he is a handsome fellow for an Elf, but I have never been one for blondes,” Kíli said.

“Don’t be cheeky. The Elf Captain.”

The whole boat went quiet as they waited for Kíli’s response. “I… um… she’s… my heart… she’s my One, Amad. I wouldn’t choose an Elf for any other reason. She’s brave, kind, and smart. I don’t know if she… if she feels it as deeply as I do, but I did tell her as best as I could in what time we had.”

Dis hummed. “If she was a Dwarf, I would like her.”

Bofur nearly fell out of the boat. “You _what_?”

“She saved my son.” Dis sat up. “Durin the First’s wife was not one of Mahal’s children. There are a few others who have also found their One’s outside of the Dwarf clans. If she is as you say she is and as she has acted, I will give my blessing if she returns your feelings. Elves, save one, also only have one partner, so it will be a faithful love. Until then, I have nothing else to say.”

“Oh, thank Mahal,” Kíli said with a sigh of relief. He gave a side glance to the rest of the Dwarves in the boat. “You lot don’t seem surprised.”

Bofur picked up an oar as the engine seemed almost out of gas. “It’s like the Lady Dis said: if it is true on both sides, ain’t nothing wrong with it. The Maker has some say about it and I will not face his wrath.”

“Same here,” Óin said.

Fili fidgeted. “Uncle will not be happy.”

Kíli paled. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

“You forget. He’s snogging a Hobbit. A Hobbit who is _friends_ with an Elf. I believe the odds are in your favor,” Dis said.

“You think they got to the snogging bit already?” Óin said.

Dis waved her hand. “I told you lot once we reached the blasted rest stop what would happen; Thorin will give some farewell speech in the tunnel before the Hobbit went into the treasury, the Professor will make her feelings known, and there would be snogging.”

“Are you so sure?” Bofur said.

“I know my brother. The Professor, though timid at first, will do whatever she sets her mind to,” Dis said.

They refused to mention the possibility they would never find out the truth of the matter if they were unable to escape Smaug’s wrath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I have a personal head canon that for Killiel to be canon, Tauriel is Kíli’s One and Tauriel figured out that Kíli is the Elvish equivalent of a One. It’s not even weird in Tolkien canon. He had people stare across a glade at each other and it gets the stamp of approval of true love. *waves the Killiel flag* THEY’RE CUTIE PATOOTIES!
> 
> Translations of Khuzdul - Thanks to [khuzdul4u](http://khuzdul4u.tumblr.com/). 
> 
> Amad - Mother.


	4. Chapter IV: Things We Lost in the Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chapter full of all the feels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I’m having a bad day, so I’m posting another chapter today to make your day a little brighter.
> 
> Chapter title from the song of the same name by Bastille. (Richard Armitage has mentioned this as a Thorin song, but I chose this long before that interview. Good taste in music that man.)

BbBbBbBbBbBbBb

_They will steal it from you. They will take away your right to be king._

_It is only lost. They will not betray me._

_They are all thieves. Thieves surround you. You cannot rest until you have found it._

 _It_ _must be here. I just need to search a little bit more._

_They are waiting for you to fall. They are waiting for you to be off your guard. Just one mistake… is all it would take. You’ll go down in history…_

A bright, warm light cleared the fog of Thorin’s dark thoughts. “Have you slept at all, Thorin?”

He jerked his head up towards where Bramble stood a few yards ahead of him. Her eyes were focused entirely on him. Bramble’s hair had fallen or been tugged out of the braids Dis had given her, the edges of which were burned. Her blue coat and purple skirt were in stark contrast to the gold which surrounded them. She gave off a warmth that made Thorin want to rest by her side and sleep for days.

“Thorin? Did you hear me?”

“I have not needed rest.” He was surprised by how hoarse his voice sounded.

“I know you’re wound-up. We all are, but it is almost sunset,” Bramble said. She looked towards the entrance leading to the rest of Erebor. “Balin says they found the plumbing still working. A bit rusty, but it can be fixed later. The river is cleansing itself after being blocked after so long. There is some sort of well nearby purer than the plumbing, but we’ll boil it all anyway, just in case.”

“Sunset?”

Bramble looked back at Thorin. “Yes, Thorin, sunset. I’ve been asleep for a few hours. I thought you were too. You said you would.”

_Just this little mound of gold. Just this part and you can go._

The Dwarf shook his head. “Yes… yes I did. I’ll come in a moment.”

Warm hands stopped Thorin’s as he began to dig. “It can wait. If Smaug didn’t take it with him as he left the mountain, it is in this room or has fallen down some long-forgotten shaft. If we find it, it will be in this room and it will not move. You need to drink something.”

He noticed the bruise on her right hand and how her nails were broken in multiple places. “Have you not been looked at?”

She shrugged. “We all sort of collapsed once we knew the dragon was dead. There hasn’t been time.”

Thorin gently took Bramble’s hand and led her to the record room near the treasury where he heard the rest of the Company talking. “We have things to treat such. It was brave what you did for us.”

“I wasn’t being brave. I was doing what was necessary.”

“And many do not do such.”

Thorin sat at the edge of the group of Dwarves. It was solemn and dark around the fire, but Ori has begun lighting candles. All the Company bowed to Thorin before continuing their tasks.

Bramble took two bowls of beef jerky soup from Bombur and sat next to Thorin. “What’s the plan, your majesty?”

_Get back to the gold. Find the Arkenstone. Get back to the gold. Get back… Get back…_

“The Arkenstone must be found. We will not receive aid until we find it,” Thorin said.

"I am sure there are rescue efforts underway at Laketown. Someone will come to help if we send…,” Bramble said.

“No. They will not help us, and we cannot lose more… we cannot. Soon, all will come here to try and take the treasure,” Thorin said.

Bramble nodded. “Okay. Yes. I can see the Americans swooping in and taking the gold. They’ve been wanting Erebor since the gold was first discovered. I’m sure Mirkwood is not happy with us and will be more than happy to take some treasure as recompense. So, what do we do in the meantime?”

“We search for the Arkenstone,” Thorin said, “It’s all that matters.”

Bramble blinked rapidly before putting down her food and taking his left hand. “That’s a nasty cut. We should have it cleaned up. Can’t find anything if you’re sick.”

“Communications are down. Satellite phone has been busted,” Dwalin said.

The Professor rummaged through one of their packs and took out some antiseptic, aloe, and bandages. She went to work cleaning up Thorin’s hand as the rest of the group gave their own updates on the state of the supplies and the surrounding area. He winced from the sting of the antiseptic, but otherwise, found it to be a pleasant experience. Thorin wanted Bramble near him. He liked that they were touching. He… his mind was beginning to become hazy.

_She is a burglar. She will steal it from you._

_Bramble would never steal from me._

_Why not?_

_Because she only wanted to learn a bit of the Dwarrow history and language. The offer of gold could not persuade her. She just wanted us to get back our home. She is my One. My other half. A piece of my very soul._

The haziness melted away. He looked around and realized everyone was looking at him for an answer.

Bramble leaned slightly towards him and whispered, “Do you have a preference on who takes a night or day shift?”

“Day shift would be best for Balin. Nori should take one of the night watches as she is more accustomed to those times. The rest can be rotated as necessary under the guidance of Dwalin,” Thorin said.

Bramble nodded and went back to wrapping his hand.

Thorin said, “Burglar, you are not to take a shift. You have done enough already and have some rather nasty wounds.”

“I’m fine,” Bramble said.

“So, your pointy ears are usually crispy?” Thorin said.

Bramble glared, but finished dressing the wound. “We’ll discuss this later. I’m too tired to argue.”

When Bramble tilted her head just so in the candlelight, Thorin could easily see what could be. A second throne besides his own. The Arkenstone placed above her head, shining brightly, but not as brightly as her. She would wear the finest gold silks. Her crown would be of Sibeal, wife of Thorin I. It would be fitting, not just because it belonged to his namesake’s wife, but because of the design. Amethyst flowers circled the golden crown and was made so light the wearer barely noticed it was there. Bramble would like such a thing. She would wear gold and mithril rings on her fingers save for one, his signet ring. All would look upon Thorin’s queen consort and know there was no one he trusted, loved, adored, or treasured more in the whole of Arda.

…And the haze came back.

_You can’t have her if you don’t find the Arkenstone. She will only stay if you are king. Your family is dead. She is all who is left. You will be alone and without aid if you do not find the Arkenstone. Go back to the gold. Find the Arkenstone._

Thorin pressed a kiss to Bramble’s forehead. “Rest for a while, then explore as you wish. I know Hobbits need sunlight. Find me if you have need, ghivashel.” He stood up and went back to the treasury.

_Find the Arkenstone and you will have everything you ever wanted._

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Bramble picked up the uneaten bowl of food. “Should I go bring this to him? He hasn’t eaten anything since lunch… oh my. Yesterday. Feels like ages ago.” She realized everyone was staring at her. “What’s wrong?”

Bifur signed, “You and Thorin?”

“Me and Thorin what?” Bramble signed back.

“I think what my cousin is asking is if you and our fearless leader have… reached an understanding,” Bombur said.

Bramble looked at where Thorin had left and back at the group. “Um… yes? Oh, right. Yes. Yes, we have.”

“Tunnels or later?” Dori asked.

“The tunnels. Why?” Bramble asked.

There was an uproar and Nori moaned about money.

“Sorry, what?” Bramble said.

Balin sighed and leaned back. “Some of the Company have, apparently, been placing bets on you and Thorin. Nori is deeply in debt now.”

Bramble motioned back towards the treasury.

“True. I am filthy rich now,” Nori said, perking up considerably at the thought of all the money waiting for her.

“Who won?” Bramble asked, amused.

“Dis, the brat,” Dori grumbled.

“Oye, you know who would have made the two of them canoodling happen faster?” Dwalin said.

“Who?” Bramble asked.

“Frerin. He was a meddler and a romantic. Not to mention he understood Thorin better than the rest of us,” Dwalin said.

“Do you remember the time with the mine carts?” Balin said.

“Aunt Urd made us polish all of the axes in the armory… twice!” Dwalin said, throwing his head back as he laughed.

“Aye, those were good times,” Balin said.

Bramble motioned to the bowl. “Will Thorin eat if I bring this to him?”

Balin sighed. “I don’t know, but you can try.”

BbBbBbBbBbBbBb

Bramble was certain there were few places in Middle-Earth as foul as a dragon’s lair. The place smelt and felt of burning slime. It was precarious making her way down to where Thorin was digging.

“Thorin, food,” Bramble said.

Thorin looked up at here, eyes vacant.

She stood slightly higher on the hill of gold than him and held up the bowl. “You didn’t eat, Thorin. You’re going to be ill if you don’t eat.”

He blinked and nodded, his eyes still not aware. Thorin sat down where he stood and took the bowl when offered. Bramble sat down, making sure her skirt covered part of the ground she sat on.

Thorin ate mechanically, staring at the gold. Bramble pushed back some of the hair covering his face.

“Is there anything I can do for you?”

“No, ghivashel. Food and your company are more than enough.”

“You’ve said that word before. What does it mean?”

Thorin looked down, blushing slightly. “Um… it’s a term of affection. It roughly means ‘treasure of treasures’.”

Bramble could not help but smile and kiss Thorin. He eagerly kissed back. They stopped after a few minutes, resting their heads against each other, breaths mingling together.

“You are the sweetest man I’ve ever met, dear Dwarf,” Bramble said.

Thorin smiled and ducked his head, hiding his face in her shoulder. “I’m really not.”

Bramble took the opportunity to stroke his hair. It needed a wash, but it was still luxurious. “Tell me what’s wrong, Thorin. ‘Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown’ and all, but there is more.”

He sighed and pressed a kiss to her shoulder. “I have no power without the Arkenstone. I need it if… it’s bad luck if I don’t have it. My grandfather lost it when Smaug attacked. He lost the battle at Moria without it. How can I do anything to help… how can I help the Company? My family? I sent Fili, Kíli, and Dis away to protect them. Everything I did, I did for them. What’s the point if…”

Bramble pulled him close and whispered, “We can’t think like that. We must believe, Thorin. The Company was too tired today, but I should be able to keep an eye out for them. I can bring news to you of what I see.”

Thorin nodded. “It would… it would ease my heart.” He pulled away, the far off look in his eyes back. “Tell the others to start searching. The seven kingdoms will not come to our aid and find the others if we do not find the Arkenstone first.”

Bramble wanted to protest but the… cloud she first saw in Thorin when she was running from Smaug was back again. He seemed calm now, but the anger… it made no sense and she did not want to see it again.

BbBbBbBbBbBbBb

The Hobbit slept for some of the night, but continued to wake up to check on Thorin. There was no real change and he was uninterested in food. She decided to explore the ruins of the Lonely Mountain.

Bramble was not sure how the Dwarves of Erebor could stand to see their home in ruins and not be overwhelmed by grief. Maybe that was what was wrong with them, particularly Thorin. What was happening was a form of grief.

In some places, there were gashes from dragon claws. In others, someone with little skill had carved out the gold and gems from the walls and pillars. Bodies were not as frequent as she expected from the records… which was more disturbing than finding the bodies.

She came across a fallen pillar with scorch marks and considered jumping over it when she heard Thorin shout, “DON’T GO NEAR THERE!”

Bramble stepped back. “What’s wrong?”

Thorin held out his hand and whispered, “You need to come over here.”

Bramble walked over cautiously. When she took his hand, Thorin pulled her into a tight embrace. “Don’t go there, Bramble.”

“Thorin, what’s wrong?”

“Don’t. Go. There. Anywhere else, but not there.”

“I won’t, but tell me what’s wrong.”

Thorin shuddered. “I can’t follow you there if something happens to you… not yet. I can’t… not yet, please.”

Bramble stroked his back. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“My mother… she fell just a few yards further than where you stood. I can’t… I can’t face it yet.”

Bramble turned them so Thorin would not face the fallen pillar. “Oh, Thorin. It’s okay. You don’t have to go there yet. It’s okay. I won’t go that way. It’s okay. Shush, love. You don’t have to face that darkness until you feel ready. It’s okay.” She made soft noises of comfort as he shook.

BbBbBbBbBbBbBb

Bramble was safe. The others… Thorin was going to keep a close eye on. It could not be so hard to find an utterly unique gem, could it?

At least there was some organization now. They were stacking the jewels, weapons, and armor as they came across it. The coins and ingots were too numerous to begin dealing with beyond digging through the literal hills of gold.

There were a few other things of interest discovered. Thorin’s old harp with its magical strings always in-tune was found. The traditional crown of the wife of Durin was found. (Traditional, as the origin was hazy, but at least went back to Durin IV.) There was a pile of sterling silver spoons needing polishing, but would be usable. There was a giant ruby which made Thorin think of Fili. She was always fascinated by rubies, even as a young Dwarfling. Thrór’s armor would require repair, but could be fixed in a few hours.

Of true interest was a mithril shirt. Even Thorin did not know Erebor had such a thing and he had been forced to pour over the ledgers with his father and grandfather for hours upon hours in his youth. It was a gorgeous piece of work, but quite small.

Thorin looked up and saw Bramble watching him, a sad look on her face turned to a polite smile. He could not have such. His Hobbit deserved the best of everything. Maybe he could… but it would be quite forward for him to propose so quickly. He should probably start small.

“Professor, has nothing been done for your hair? You still look like you fought a dragon,” Thorin said, trying to be light in his tone.

Bramble shrugged. “Washed it. I’m afraid some of it is going to have to be cut.”

Every Dwarf immediately turned towards Bramble with a look of horror. Bombur and Bifur signed to each other and Bramble. Bramble signed back and said, “Whoa. What?”

“Poor lass,” Balin said.

“Beautiful hair,” Ori said with a sniffle.

“Haircuts are that scary?” Bramble said.

“Hair is important for Dwarves,” Nori said, “Haircuts are often a sign of sorrow or loss. It is necessary, but not to be taken lightly.”

“I’ll help,” Thorin said, a bit too quickly.

The Dwarves focused their attention on him. “If that is what my sister wants,” Bombur said darkly.

Bifur signed in agreement with Bombur.

“Ummm… yes? If that’s alright?” Bramble said, still trying to take in the new information.

“Perfectly alright. Simply _forward_ for a Dwarf,” Bombur grumbled.

Thorin moved quickly. “We shall return shortly.”

BbBbBbBbBbBbBb

Bramble sat in front of the fire cooking the soup for dinner. Dori had made herself scarce, giving a meaningful look to Bramble. The Hobbit had no idea how to take it.

Thorin knelt in front of her. “I would only cut away the damaged hair, if it is to your liking.”

“Thank you.” She turned around so Thorin could have better access to her hair. He wrapped a tattered blanket around her shoulders and carefully began separating the damaged hair from the healthy. “Thorin, this isn’t a proposal or something, is it?”

“No,” Thorin said, “Merely a solidification of intentions.”

“Ah. Good. How do I respond?” Bramble asked.

He kissed the back of her head. “By simply being. Your acceptance is a response.”

“Excellent.”

Bramble closed her eyes and rested easily for the first time in days. Thorin was gentle and careful as he snipped the burned hair. Once he had cut the worst of it, he combed and picked her curls until he could cut a few final pieces.

“May I put braids in your hair?” Thorin asked quietly, not touching her.

Bramble smiled. “Of course. Just don’t do them too tightly.”

He continued his gentle care of Bramble’s hair. The braids felt complicated and she asked what he was doing.

“A seven-strand braid. A sign you are under the protection of one of the royal families of the Seven Fathers.” He paused. “Would you like some beads for your hair?”

“I will just end up smacking myself in the face with them, but thank you,” Bramble said.

Thorin finished her braid and tapped her shoulder. Bramble turned around and smiled up at him. “Thank you. I wish your hair was long enough so I could return the favor. Your beard is coming along nicely, by the way. I quite like it.”

Thorin blushed and looked down. “Thank you.”

Bramble rested her forehead against Thorin’s, and they sat together for some time. Eventually, Thorin said, “Dear burglar, I have put you through too much.”

“No, you haven’t. I signed the contract. I knew what I was getting into.”

Thorin shook his head. “I should never have brought you. I knew… I treated you differently than I should have. I should have realized…”

“There is nothing to be sorry for. I would have never had the chance to know you if I had not come, Thorin. If I had not left with the Company… you would have simply been a story, instead of the dear Dwarf sitting in front of me.”

Thorin pulled her close. “I have no idea why you would stay after seeing so much death and destruction. I… I still don’t know why you kept coming back to save us.”

“Hope and … it was hope, dear Dwarf. It is hard for me to give up hope. I suppose… I…my father passed while I was on an adventure. Not like this one, no, only a trip to Bree. Quite far for a Hobbit, though…” She shook her head. “He was so sick. His heart had stopped the week before for thirty seconds. But… he had this spark in his eyes, like he could fight death for ages, despite knowing he would lose far sooner than the rest of us. He faced impossible odds every day.” Bramble smiled up at Thorin. “Even when you had fallen, I couldn’t leave you behind. I couldn’t lose hope you might be alive.”

“We are well matched,” Thorin whispered. He cupped her face with his hands. “When we found out you had been separated in the mountains, I hoped you had gone home, because it was better for you to have abandoned the quest then for you to have fallen. I chose to hope you lived.” He closed his eyes and dropped his hands to Bramble’s back, resting his head on Bramble’s shoulder. “I am too stubborn at times. I refused to be treated after Azanulbizar until Frerin… my brother… I had to know if he really was… if he really was dead though it would have been impossible for him not to be with what happened… what they did to his head. And they never found my father, so I chose to believe he lived.”

Bramble gave him a reassuring squeeze as she held him.

Thorin tightened his grip on Bramble. "When the wizard came to me with the map, I thought, let this be a mistake, let it be a fake, a forgery…" He kissed the top of her head. “… And then this confident, beautiful Hobbit with no motive for it being true or false told me it was real.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“You spoke only the truth. I needed to know so I could reclaim Erebor for my people as my quest to find my father was over. I had to leave something behind for my family. Something more than a meager existence.”

“That’s not the story I have been told, over and over again, Thorin. You have done well, long before you went on this Quest. You have succeeded beyond what anyone could have imagined. Can you not accept that and just… rest? Rest and let your heart recover? There are survivors from Laketown. I am sure your family is part of the group.”

Thorin shook his head. “I cannot. I cannot rest until all is secure. I must find the Arkenstone and keep you safe. It must be found. Without it, it all meant nothing.” He stood up and began walking away, muttering to himself.

Bramble was left feeling colder than she had ever felt, even in the depths of the Fell Winter.

Something was very wrong with her dear Dwarf.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: If you are sitting there going, “This sounds a bit like The Guardian of Erebor” that’s because I took parts I planned for this fic and put it into that one as I was writing under an extremely tight deadline for my normal writing schedule.
> 
> I might have thrown in a line from Fall Out Boy in the chapter. *wink*
> 
> The line about Thorin hoping the map is a forgery is from [Richard Armitage’s audition](http://fargreencountryswiftsunrise.tumblr.com/post/90488606573/circusgifs-when-the-wizard-came-to-me-with-the#notes). 
> 
> You know how sometimes you have [that one scene that makes you want to write a fic](http://fargreencountryswiftsunrise.tumblr.com/post/89910197818/fuckyeahfanficflamingo-write-novel-length#notes)? The hair cutting scene is what set this all off. I didn’t want to go back to writing LOTR fanfiction because of how bad I was at it because my earliest (and worst) work was LOTR fanfic. I started reading Fem!Bilbo because I wanted more girl power in HOB. Seeing the importance of hair in the fanfic stories as well as wondering why people did not have their hair caught on fire led to this scene and several thousand words and counting.


	5. Chapter V: The Curses of Diamonds and Rings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The American Government is the exact opposite of helpful. 
> 
> Erebor is more tomb than home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: Inadequacies of the American government in response to an emergency.
> 
> A/N: Chapter title taken from the lyrics of “Gold” by Imagine Dragons.

BbBbBbBbBbBbBb

Laketown was no more, but the devastation remained. Bodies were piled up together from either the dragon or drowning and more were being pulled out. The wounded were being treated with rags from clothing as the few first-aid kits found in the cars used for escape had been depleted. Despite the desert sun, it was autumn and thus too cold for many.

It got worst. Hilda Bianca grabbed Bard’s shoulders. “The Americans are here.”

Bard groaned and rubbed her forehead. At the least, they would stand around while everyone starved while waiting for FEMA. At worst… well, Laketown was a part of Dale which was a territory of the United States after Smaug came. They had almost no power with the government.

Several jeeps filled with soldiers from the Army and a few vans from the National Guard pulled up to the refugees. “Who’s in charge here?” one of the more official looking servicemen said.

Bard stepped towards them as the rest of the Lakemen stepped away. “I can answer for you. A dragon came and…”

“We got it off YouTube. We know what happened. Have you seen the Dwarves who supposedly came along?” the soldier said.

Bard took a deep breath before answering. “Not for a while, no.”

“Do you know where they went?” the soldier said.

Bard rubbed her forehead. “To the Lonely Mountain. It is their home.”

“Did they kill the dragon?”

A man shouted from the crowd, “Bard slayed the dragon! I saw it!”

The Laketown residents gave out another cheer. The soldiers looked around with an edge of fear, which was never a good sign when dealing with Americans.

“I am Captain John Burgess of the United States Army,” the head soldier said, “I am here to take over operations at this disaster site.”

The crowd jeered. The soldiers put their hands on their weapons and the crowd drew back a step. Bard stepped in front of her children. “Captain Burgess, I am Bard Bargeman, formally a Lieutenant in the Army and a sniper with twenty-three kills during three months of active duty. I understand where you are coming from, but we are not your enemies. We are merely displaced citizens of an American territory. We are not doing anything to aggravate you. We merely are trying to find some safety.”

“You need to listen to us. We have more experience in this,” Captain Burgess said.

“Like you had more experience in New Orleans?” a member of the crowd shouted.

This led the refugees to go into an uproar once again.

“You will decease this unruliness now,” Captain Burgess said to Bard.

“They are not wrong. America does not deal with disasters or territories well,” Bard said.

“I’ve seen the John Oliver video, Ms. Bargeman. I am not someone who blindly follows orders. You cannot stay here. You have no rights here,” Captain Burgess said.

“That’s not true,” a new female voice said.

Out from the crowd stepped forth a tall figure dressed in silver-gold armor. With her walked three men with intricate beards indicating they were Dwarves.

“What business is it of yours?” Captain Burgess said.

The woman took off her helmet revealing blond hair and a beard as intricately braided as her comrades. “I am Thorn, a representative of the Iron Hills. Lord Dain Ironfoot is cousin to Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain. Lord Dain wished to know if his cousin lived. I am sure he and the leaders of the seven kingdoms will be quite interested to hear about the United States harassment of survivors of a dragon attack.”

“As would the citizens of the United States,” another female voice said. Out from the crowd stepped a blonde Mortal woman carrying a smart phone in her hand as she filmed the scene before her. “I’m Winifred Haf of Arda News Network. I’ve been filming this whole interaction on a live stream. Would the good captain like to comment on why the United States government only brought weapons to a relief effort? Maybe the government would like to take full control of the area and hope all of the Dwarves in the area are dead before taking over the Lonely Mountain?”

The Captain glared at the three women. “I will take back with us to base any who wish to rely on the government’s services can come with us including the wounded. I am guessing some of you have family outside of Laketown. Choose wisely. We leave in five minutes.”

As the Americans went to prepare to leave, Bard turned to the people. She frowned slightly as she realized she was too short to be seen by most. Thorn grabbed a wooden box and dragged it over for Bard to use as a boost.

“My friends, as much as I am loathed to admit it, if you go with them, there will be help eventually, especially for the wounded. If you stay here, we will salvage what we can and go find shelter,” Bard said.

“Where?” shouted some of the crowd.

Bard pointed to the ruins of Dale. “It’s the closest town to us. I know some of the Dwarves still live and they are the honorable sort.”

The Dwarves from the Iron Hills grunted in agreement.

“We will only take what was promised to us. Only what we need to rebuild our lives. It will be a long journey for us to rebuild, but Mortal Men have survived worse things than dragon fire,” Bard said, “Go with the Americans or stay here with us. Both are difficult choices, and none will begrudge you. If you stay behind, take only what we need. We have a long march ahead.”

There was no cheering this time, only whispered discussions. Thorn assisted Bard off the box.

“Wise words, my lady,” Thorn said.

“Thank you, but why offer your assistance?” Bard said.

Thorn tilted her head towards Dale. “Once, my family were allies and friends with the people of Dale. I would see it restored. Do know the descendants of Girion, Lord of Dale, who will have a claim to the city?”

“Well, it is fortunate I am his descendant, isn’t it?” Bard said.

Thorn bowed again. “Lady of Dale, it is an honor to meet you. You wear the mantle of leadership well.”

“Thank you, but I am not taking a title unless I am asked to. Right now, I just want to keep my family and my people safe,” Bard said.

“Yes, ma’am. We will be willing to assist the people of Laketown as much as we can, but we have limited resources as we believed we were only going to assist Thorin son Thráin or any of his Company who survived. Who do you know who is still alive?” Thorn said.

“I do not know if I am at liberty to say, but I can say five still live for certain. I will be willing to speak with Lord Dain later. Right now, I wish to contact the Red Tree and see what to do next. They should have already been here,” Bard said.

“Three guesses as to why and the first two don’t count,” Winifred Haf said.

Bard glanced over at Winifred. “How are you getting a signal out here?”

Winifred winked. “I’m not. I did record all of it, though.”

Bard covered her eyes for a moment as she took a deep breath. She dropped her hand as she stood up straighter and faced Thorn. “May I use your phone?”

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Bard made phone calls to every number she remembered to get help. She returned the phone to Thorn. “Thank you.”

“You are welcome, Lady Bard,” Thorn said, “I will also ask for aid from the Iron Hills. My Dwarves are already handing out what supplies we have.”

“Thank you, again,” Bard said.

Thorn leaned forward slightly. “Beware of aid from the Elves. There is always a price.”

Bard raised her eyebrow. “And there is not a price when dealing with others?”

Thorn shrugged. “We are a bit sensitive about those affected by dragon fire, though you are right. I am sure there will be political ramifications. With the Elves… My people and my family in particular are not fond of Elves and their false promises. I will make those phone calls.”

Thorn walked away, already speaking on the phone. Bard turned and found the two Elves waiting to speak with her. No matter how long she worked with Elves, Bard still found their stillness and focus unsettling. Tauriel and… no, it could not be. Legolas? As in Prince Legolas?

“My children told me about what happened after I left. Thank you for saving them,” Bard said.

“We are always glad to help those in need,” Tauriel said.

“I have already reached out to my father,” Legolas said, “He will be here in a few days.”

“I appreciate the help, but I am worried about too many people knowing about the position we and the Dwarves are in,” Bard said.

Legolas held up his phone and showed the posts about the destruction of Laketown. “News of the death of Smaug is already on social media. Others will look to the mountain for its wealth, for its position.”

“What do you know?” Bard asked.

Legolas put away his phone. “Nothing for certain. It is only what I fear will come. One of the attackers was Bolg, spawn of Azog. I followed him out of town. He fled to the desert. He carried the mark of Gundabard. Tauriel and I need to track him and see if the old fortress is still functioning.”

Bard nodded. “Yes. I would rather not have to deal with Orcs along with the relief efforts.”

“By your leave, Lady Bard,” Legolas said with a slight bow.

Bard nodded her head and the Elves left. “Never going to get used to the _lady_ title.”

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Two days after Smaug’s demise, the path became familiar to the older Dwarves, like an old song played for the first time in years. Dis picked up speed as they passed Dale. It would still take some time to hike the rest of the way, but they could see the smashed gates of Erebor.

When they finally stood at the entrance of the Lonely Mountain, they froze for a moment, waiting for any sound, any hint of life. There was none. They ran further into the mountain, Dís leading the way.

Dis supposed it was a good thing. At any moment, she might realize she stood in a ruined tomb which had once been her home. There was no life. No golden light. Just unbearable silence occasionally broken by their own shouts for their loved ones. Until…

“Wait! Wait!” a female voice cried out ahead of them.

Bofur ran ahead and pulled the Hobbit into a hug. “It’s Bramble! She’s alive!”

Bramble wrenched herself away and put her hands up. “Stop! Stop! You need to leave. We all need to leave.”

“What are you talking about? We just got here,” Bofur said.

Bramble panted from running. “I’ve tried to talk to him, but he won’t listen.”

“What do you mean lass?” Óin said.

“Thorin!” Bramble snapped, but immediately became quieter. “Thorin. He’s been down there for days. He doesn’t sleep. He barely eats. He’s not been himself. Not at all.” She motioned around them. “It’s this place. I think a sickness lies on it.”

Dis felt all of the warmth from the news of her brother living freeze within her. _Please be wrong, Hobbit. Please be wrong._

“Sickness? What kind of sickness?” Kíli asked.

Something caught Fili’s eye. She ran past the Dwarves and the Hobbit to follow the light.

“Fili! You can’t go in there,” Bramble said as she chased after the princess, “You really can’t. Please! Trust me.”

The group stopped at the edge of a platform, struck by the sheer amount of gold surrounding them. “This wasn’t all here before,” Dis whispered.

Bramble kept her shaking hands by her side, making a fist. At first, Dís thought it was anger. Then the Dwarf realized it was fear. _What has she done to Thorin? Why won’t she let us see him?_

It became painfully clear why the Hobbit was scared when Dis thought she saw her Grandfather walking into the treasury. Thorin wore her Grandfather’s armor and his face was covered in shadow.

The way Thorin spoke was to himself and not others, like he was trying to convince himself of something. “Gold. Gold beyond measure… beyond sorrow and grief.”

Thorin looked up and was surprised. There was no joy in his eyes. Only something calculating. “Behold the great treasure hoard of Thrór.”

He threw something at Fili’s head. She caught it and found it to be a ruby the size of her palm. Fili looked back at her uncle, not caring for the jewel in her hand.

Thorin opened his arms wide and caused his last word to echo in the cavernous halls. “Welcome, my kin, to the kingdom of Erebor.”

Dis fell to her knees unable to keep herself upright a moment longer. There was a quicksand pit where her hope should have been. Thorin could not have fallen ill at all, let alone so quickly. He was so much stronger than anyone she knew. For him to be felled by greed… he must not be Thorin. He must not…

Bramble threw her arms around Dis. The Dwarf did not realize she had been reaching for her gun until Bramble had put her hand over Dís’ own. “Oh, you must be overwhelmed. Excuse me, Thorin. I should probably make your sister comfortable. You can come visit in a moment, yes? Good.”

Dis underestimated how strong Hobbits were. Bramble pulled Dis to her feet and away to an antechamber without faltering. The Hobbit eased Dis to the ground and wrapped her in a blanket.

“I’m so sorry,” Bramble said, “I don’t know what’s wrong with him. He’s not listening to anyone.”

“Thorin would be better off dead,” Dis said.

Bramble swallowed. “I do not believe he’s that far gone.”

“You know NOTHING!” Dis said, “You haven’t seen it! You don’t know what it’s like! Thorin would rather be dead than be like my grandfather!”

“He is not your grandfather! If you lay the sins of Thrór upon Thorin you are no better than Thranduil!”

Dis gasped. “How dare you compare me to him!”

Bramble gritted her teeth and took several deep breaths before speaking again. “Because you are not behaving reasonably. No one in this whole blasted mountain is! Thorin is disassociating from reality and obsessing over the gold to try to ground himself, which is just about the worse thing he can do since the gold is sick. It’s… burning slime. I don’t understand how anyone can touch it. I thought it was just Smaug being here but…” The Hobbit shivered. “No one is willing to speak against Thorin’s wishes. I don’t understand what’s changed since we’ve entered the mountain.”

“He has reclaimed Erebor. He is now truly our king,” Dis said. Her mind began to work again and assess the situation.

“Then why is he obsessing over a single gem? I understand the power of symbols, but isn’t Erebor enough of a symbol?”

Before Dis could answer, they heard heavy footfalls. Thorin entered wearing the clothes he had while leaving Laketown. He looked at the two women with unfocused eyes. “Fili said… armor makes hugs uncomfortable. I don’t… like being this exposed, but I don’t want you hurt.”

Dis began to cry. Thorin knelt next to his sister and wrapped her in a hug. “I brought us home,” he whispered, “I’ll keep us safe. All will come to our aid once we have the Arkenstone. No one could face the combined forces of the Dwarves. We will have all the power we will ever need.”

Dis sobbed and clung to Thorin. _I don’t want that. I don’t want that power. I just want my brother._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Reminder I am not a psychologist and have based Thorin’s mental state from my understanding of psychology and others’ observations. 
> 
> I am a citizen of the United States, but dude, seriously, it’s messed-up and needs to get its act together on a bunch of things. Since I wrote this chapter mostly during 2015, it has only gotten worse. This was written long before Hurricane Maria. It was, however, edited during the Coronavirus outbreak in March and April 2020.


	6. Chapter VI: The Arkenstone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin continues his descent into madness despite his friends and family trying to reassure him that he is their king and they love him. The Arkenstone continues to be a major topic of discussion

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All the Dwarves were tasked to search the treasury for the Arkenstone. Thorin switched between his armor and Laketown clothes in no discernible pattern. They were barely an indicator of his moods as they switched so rapidly when he was not searching through the gold himself.

Fili and Kíli both fell from Thorin’s favor when the king heard them whisper about if he was sick from lack of sleep or lack of food. Dis had sent Fili to guard the gate after the incident, making the young Dwarf fade from the fearful thoughts of a king listening for whispers of rebellion.

The king’s sister seemed to be more precariously balanced in Thorin’s favor than anyone else. One moment Dis was a confidant and in the next she was sent to search for the Arkenstone.

The consensus was the king’s moods could sometimes be swayed by the Hobbit. Bramble was the only one never to be sent in search of the Arkenstone and the only one who did not have to answer to Thorin for her movements in the Lonely Mountain. Perhaps it was because she only left Thorin’s side to stand in the sunlight.

On one such occasion, Bramble stood with Fili looking at the ruins of Dale. “I am still trying to make your uncle see your comments were out of concern, not regicide.”

“If anyone could do it, you could Professor,” Fili said.

“I haven’t done anything. If I was able to do a thing, he wouldn’t be… he would not be fading to…he would be well.”

Fili flipped out one of her knives and began to sharpen it. “Has he made you look for the Arkenstone since Smaug died?”

“No.”

The Dwarf tilted her head in a way which showed a resemblance to her uncle. “He’s still there. Don’t give up on him.”

“I don’t think I could,” Bramble said. “He tried to give me a drawer of silver spoons today.”

Fili snorted. “Why would he give you cutlery? A sword would be far more useful.”

“He’s tried before, but I think he remembered me telling the lot of you in Rivendell the time Lobelia Sackville-Baggins made off with my spoons when she had been drunk at my fortieth birthday.”

“… Wait… before?”

Bramble shrugged. “This is the third time he’s tried to give me something. I don’t need anything from that blasted treasury. If he could find me a better winter coat, that would be fantastic.”

Fíli could only nod as Bramble left, taking in the shock of her uncle being so forward.

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Dis felt lightheaded when she saw where the Hobbit stood in the throne room. Bramble was a few feet from the throne’s left. Such a spot was saved for only the most trusted of advisers. While Thrór was king, only his wife and son had stood there. In Thorin’s kingship, power seemed to have fallen to the Hobbit. Bramble seemed unaware of this honor bestowed upon her as she watched Thorin examining the empty place above the throne where the Arkenstone should have been. There was no pride in Bramble’s stance, only barely constrained concern for Thorin. Distantly, Dís found her brother’s choice wise; a queen’s first concern was for her king and not for anyone else, even herself.

Balin, Dwalin, and Dís waited for their king to acknowledge them. Thorin said, “It is here in these halls.”

He motioned for Dís to approach. She walked up the stairs and stopped on the opposite side of the throne where Bramble stood. The women glanced at each other in understanding.

“We have searched and searched everywhere,” Dwalin said.

Balin added, “We all want to see the Arkenstone returned.”

“And yet it's still not found!” Thorin snapped at his adviser.

Balin took a moment to find his words. “Do you doubt the loyalty of any of us? The Arkenstone is the birthright of our people.”

Bramble’s quick glance at Thorin and away again was the only warning Balin’s words were the wrong thing to say.

Thorin turned around slowly and walked to the edge of the platform. “It is the King's Jewel. AM I NOT THE KING?”

For the briefest moment, Dís was a child again. Thrór had just backhanded Thráin for daring to ask about the white gems of Lasgalen. King Thrór had never laid a hand on his son, even during Thráin’s youth. From that day until the fall of Erebor, none of Thráin’s children had been allowed near the king alone.

Thorin’s voice brought Dís back to the presence. “Know this; if anyone should find the Arkenstone and withhold it from me, I will be avenged.”

As the king left, passing by the Hobbit, Dís said with as much dignity as she could the words, she had sometimes heard her father say. “Thank you for your time counseling the king. You are dismissed.”

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Balin hid in the royal archive as he tried to hold back his tears. He saw the professor come close to him, silent, but concerned.

“Dragon sickness,” he explained, “I’ve seen it before. That look. That terrible need. It is a fierce and jealous love, professor. It sent his Grandfather mad.”

“Balin…” the words she spoke were carefully chosen, “…if, if Thorin had the Arkenstone,” she tilted her head, “if it was found, would it help?”

The Dwarf knew of what she spoke. “That stone crowns all. It is the summit of this great wealth. The stone bestows power to he who wields it. Will it stay his madness? No, professor. I fear it will make it worse. Perhaps it’s best it remains lost.”

The Hobbit gave her polite smile and small nod that Balin had learned to interpret as internal screaming.

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Bramble sat on the stone wall of the broken gate, watching Dale. “What do you have there Hobbit?” Dís asked quietly.

“Why do you think I have anything?” Bramble said.

Dís repeated her question. “What do you have, professor?”

“I don’t know what…”

“Bramble, what do you have?” Dís said.

“I um… he was right,” Bramble said, “Smaug said I was a liar and a thief, and I have proved him right, just as Thorin has also proved the worm right. The Arkenstone has driven him insane.” She pulled out the Arkenstone from her pocket. “I was scared and then Thorin… he wasn’t Thorin. I couldn’t give it to him. And now he is so sick, and I don’t know what to do. I’m sorry. Please take it. You are an heir of Durin. This is not rightfully mine.”

Dís stared at the Arkenstone for a long time before speaking. “I would destroy it if not for what it represented. Hide it. Don’t throw it away. It’s too… Thorin is bound to it. I could not kill a part of him. But do not give it to him. Please. Please for the love of Thorin we both share, do not destroy the Heart of the Mountain, for it will destroy Thorin’s heart with it.”

“Is Thorin’s heart magically connected to the Arkenstone and destroying it will destroy him?” Bramble asked, her voice rising unusually high as she pressed the Arkenstone against her chest in a protective gesture.

“You have been reading far too many fantasy novels,” Dís said with a sigh. She covered her face with her hands. “Professor, protect him, please. He keeps shutting me out. He keeps you in his confidence. Persuade him not to do anything rash.”

Bramble snorted. “Thorin doesn’t listen to me.”

Dís dropped her hands. “Do you really not…?” She froze and spoke slowly. “Have you accepted any gifts from him?”

“Not that I know of,” Bramble said.

“Good. Don’t accept anything he gives you.”

“Why?”

Dís let out a low hiss as she thought. “It’s… impolite what Thorin is doing.”

“Oh…” Bramble said. It was far too polite of a response if she knew what Thorin was attempting to ask without being clearer in Hobbit terms. Bramble dropped the Arkenstone back into her coat pocket. “You believe this is the best course of action?”

“I do,” Dís said.

Bramble sighed in relief. “Good. I know you would only do the best for Thorin and if he wasn’t sick, he would do the best for you. He’ll get better. I know it. He just needs a little help.” She stretched. “I need to go check up on our favorite idiot. Make sure he hasn’t yelled at anyone again.”

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Thorin held a delicate necklace made of what Bramble thought was silver and diamonds. He said, “The white gems of Lasgalen. I know an Elf-lord who would pay a pretty price for these.” Thorin threw the necklace hard against other bright jewels with such venom could only mean one thing: Thranduil.

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In Mirkwood, armies began to move towards the Lonely Mountain. It was time to act and restore what was theirs: being the most powerful kingdom in the southwest of North America.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Avelera (Tumblr, AO3, AND FF.Net) has [a wonderful theory](http://fargreencountryswiftsunrise.tumblr.com/post/107860906233/timeline-and-power-struggles-of-the-esgaroth#notes) on Mirkwood’s power struggle with Erebor and I must agree with her on Thranduil’s motivations, even if the movie did not take it that direction.


	7. Chapter VII: One Day It Will Grow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why yes, I did name this fic from a line in the acorn scene to give my readers feels.

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Bombur and Bifur partially smothered Bofur when they went to sleep that night. Bramble sat on the other side of Bombur and spoke with Bofur quietly about what had passed.

“And Bard just shrugged it off as if it was not a great feat?” Bramble said.

“Aye, lass. Reminds me a bit of his majesty about the Battle of Azanulbizar if I were honest. Probably why the two of them can’t seem to get along. Birds of a feather,” Bofur said.

Bramble laid down and stared at the ceiling. “I suppose so.” She touched her braided hair self-consciously. “He needs to get out of here. It’s making him sick.”

“I know, lass.” Bofur shimmed up so he could peak over the top of Bombur’s head. “Do you two have an understanding?”

Bramble shrugged. “Yes, and everyone seems fine with it but… won’t it be a problem? I’m not royalty and I’m not a Dwarf.”

“Doesn’t matter. When it comes to finding your One, Dwarves don’t care about status. There have even been a Dwarf or two known to have married… _an elf_.”

“No!”

“Aye! Had a gaggle of Dwelves they did. Not any history about Hobbits and Dwarves, but it doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. Durin I’s wife had to come from _somewhere_.”

Bramble shook her head. “I don’t… he’s… it’s not proper. Not really. We haven’t had a proper dinner yet or planned a brunch or gone to a party or… well, we have done quite a bit of walking, but we haven’t dealt with the preparations of a birthday and…”

“Lass,” Bofur lowered his voice and spoke with a steady voice, “does your heart call out for his?”

She looked away and after a moment of silence said, “Yes.”

“And does his heart call out for yours?”

“I… I believe so… when he is himself.”

“The two of you are better together. I may not have known you before all of this, but I know it’s true. You become a bright light when he’s around and he is certainly better with you.”

Bramble looked back at Bofur. “If it were true, he wouldn’t be sick.”

Bofur shook his head. “We can love someone and care for them the best way there is, and they can still be ill. It’s not anybody’s fault. We just have to do what’s best for everyone.”

“Do you believe that?”

“I know it.”

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No one was allowed long periods of rest until the Arkenstone was found. The Dwarves would fall asleep in the treasury, awoken after a few moments of slumber by Thorin. Bramble was exempt from such treatment. Thorin had created a private room for her near the treasury in what she suspected used to be a broom closet. She was sure it was comfortable, but she never used it. When Thorin was awake, she was either in the treasury or exploring.

The Hobbit had given up following closely Thorin. He was either in the treasury or the throne room. This allowed her some freedom the others did not have. Bramble went to the gate.

Bramble breathed in the cool air drifting in from the outside as she sat down on a stone bench. The clouds covered the stars and it was too brisk to stay outside. Here, though, just inside the mountain was warmth just waiting to be used.

She pulled out of her pocket the acorn she had taken from Beorn’s garden. She imagined planting it outside her parlor where the Dwarves had sung their song which brought her into this adventure. The smallest, most impossible thought came to Bramble, of instead planting it outside of Erebor if… if only she was asked… she would stay… if only…

Thorin’s voice surprised Bramble. “What is in your hand?”

The Dwarf came from the ramparts, breaking his usual pattern. Bramble stood up. “It-it's nothing.”

“Show me!” Thorin said.

Bramble smiled slightly to stave off their mutual embarrassment for when she showed Thorin what she had. When she opened her hand, Thorin was befuddled.

“I picked it up in Beorn's garden,” she explained.

“You've carried it all this way?”

“I'm going to plant it in my garden, in Bag End,” Bramble said.

Thorin gave his half smile which made Bramble a little lightheaded. “It's a poor prize to take back to the Shire, professor.”

“One day it'll grow. And every time I look at it, I'll remember… One day I'll remember. Remember everything that happened: the good, the bad... and how lucky I am that I made it home.”

Thorin smiled so brightly, it was as if the whole room was filled with golden light. Bramble smiled shyly as she knew of no other way to react. Surely an acorn had not caused such a beautiful thing to occur, could it?

But maybe it did. Small things often changed the course of things. Maybe this small seed could break through the illness consuming Thorin… long enough to break him free. Maybe if she told him now…

Bramble shifted her feet as she tried to gather her courage. “Thorin…”

Dwalin walked in from the hallway. “Thorin, survivors from Laketown are streaming into Dale. There are hundreds of them.”

The golden light was gone, and shadows hid Thorin’s face. “Call everyone to the gate. To the gate. NOW.”

Bramble sighed and covered her eyes with one hand. “Just five minutes. Just five minutes more, Dwalin.”

“This is a bit more important than the two of you canoodling,” Dwalin said.

“There was no canoodling. Just…” Bramble shook her head. “Come on. Let’s make sure he doesn’t hurt himself.”

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Dis was grateful Thorin had focused his attention outside of the treasury. She was not pleased at the pace he set.

“I want this fortress made safe by sunup. This mountain was hard won. I would not see it taken again,” Thorin said as he strode over to the gap which remained in the wall.

Kíli dropped the cart he was dragging with the help of Bramble. “The people of Laketown have nothing. They came to us in need. They have lost everything.

Thorin looked back at his nephew. “Do not tell me what they have lost. I know well enough their hardship. Those who have lived through dragon fire should rejoice. They have much to be grateful for.”

Dis gaped at her brother’s words. She had heard them once before after the fall of Erebor when they went to find help from the Elves.

Thorin became frantic. “More stone! More stone to the gate!”

Bofur strode over next to the king. “Oye, Thorin. Don’t you think that’s a bit harsh?”

Thorin stopped and glared at the miner. “Harsh?”

“Aye, harsh,” Bofur said, “They ain’t hardy like we are. They weren’t made to withstand such suffering. Wouldn’t a bit of mercy go a bit further than a hard hand?”

“Do you think they would offer such if we were in the same situation?” Thorin said.

Before Bofur could answer, Bramble stepped between them. “Do I need to put the both of you in a time-out?”

Bofur and Thorin both looked ready to snarl back an answer before the Hobbit held up her hands. “Rhetorical. Bofur, I will speak to you in a moment. Thorin, a word.” She glanced back at the Company who all stood aghast. “What do you lot think you’re doing? Thorin is right. We need to build the gate. It is to keep honest people honest. We need to keep our strength up. It will be much easier to protect a blocked doorway than an open one. Get back to work.”

Bramble took Thorin’s hand and led him to what used to be a guard room. “What is the matter?”

“Bofur would side with those thieves over his king,” Thorin said.

“No, he wouldn’t.” Bramble slipped one hand behind Thorin’s neck and she put the other on his cheek. “Bofur would never do such. He is loyal, brave, and has a kind heart. There are children out there, Thorin. Don’t you remember Tilda? She guessed right away you were a prince. Would you make her and others like her suffer?”

Thorin pressed his forehead against Bramble’s. “Dear burglar, do not distress yourself. They are not without aid. It is not our place to offer help until we can help ourselves.” He kissed her cheek. “Keep Bofur away from me, please,” he whispered, his voice shaking.

“What are you…?”

Thorin left and went back to the gate. Bofur came to Bramble’s side. “What is the matter with him?”

“He’s sick. He’s trying not to be, but he is,” Bramble said. She rubbed her eyes. “You should stay away from him for now.”

“What about you, lass?” Bofur said.

Bramble smiled. “He won’t hurt me, Bofur. He… he would be beyond saving if he did that, wouldn’t he?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Because sometimes you’ve got to twist the knife of angst deeper.


	8. Chapter VIII: The Heart of the Mountain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the author behaved herself and did not reference "Fireflies" by Owl City as it did not match the mood of the chapter and Nori provides common sense battle tactics.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Happy Easter, Happy Passover, and Happy Sunday depending on what you do or do not celebrate. I celebrate Easter so as an Easter treat, here are two chapters.

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There were no stars. No moon. No light. Just clouds, wind, and darkness. Bramble trudged in defeat back into the mountain. She knew there was something sick about the Lonely Mountain just as Mirkwood was sick. How sick was beyond her knowledge as she had no stone sense. All rock was the same be it granite or gold.

The Hobbit found a small room she guessed to be an abandoned linen closet by Erebor standards. It was the size of her parlor with a curved ceiling. She left the door open to let in what little light there was from the torches.

As she laid on the floor and looked at the ceiling, Bramble heard the thumping of booted feet come down the hallway. She shut her eyes and hoped whoever it was would just leave her be.

“Burglar! What are you doing?” Thorin said.

 _So much for peace._ Bramble thought idly. “I needed to decompress. Ponder the meaning of life, the universe, and everything.”

“Is that so?” Thorin said, his voice not quite as it ought to be. He put the hand-cranked lantern near Bramble’s head before lying down next to her. “And what is your conclusion?”

“I haven’t had enough time to come up with an answer.”

Thorin grunted in acknowledgment. He put his hands behind his head as he looked up at the ceiling with Bramble.

After several minutes of awkward silence which slowly became more comfortable, Bramble asked, “What was it like to be a child here in Erebor?”

The Dwarf was silent for so long Bramble wondered if he had heard her. Just as she was about to ask again, Thorin said, “I remember the first time I saw fireflies. I was five years old, just old enough to be allowed out of the nursery. I escaped my caretakers to go see the stars I had heard of for so long. I sat in a room much like this and looked up at the twinkling lights, ever changing and soothing. When I was found, the illusion was shattered. They were not stars, but merely glowing bugs far more common than any star.”

“How did you never see stars as a child?” Bramble asked. She turned on her side to watch Thorin. His breathing was even and reassuring.

“We Dwarves grow to be strong, but we are not born as such. Even if a Dwarf mother survives the pregnancy and birth, it is highly likely her children will die from a scraped knee or a cold before their fourth birthday.”

“I’m so sorry,” Bramble whispered.

Thorin turned towards her, his eyes downcast, but his voice was the one Bramble had fallen in love with. “We take them to the center of the mountain where it is warmest from the forges and protected from the cold of the outside world. We keep the lights burning and always have someone to watch each child. No place is more protected than the nursery, not even the treasury.”

With a slow, cautious movement, he took Bramble’ hand and placed it over his heart, the beat slow and steady. “The heart of the mountain and the heart of the king are to be the same. Warm, bright, always protecting those of his people who cannot protect themselves. It is why the Arkenstone was taken as a sign of divine favor. It is harder than diamonds, bright as torchlight, and as warm as a kind hand. If it is lost or destroyed, I fear what it will mean to those under my care.”

“So, symbolically, the mountain, the Arkenstone, and the king are one?” Bramble asked softly.

Thorin nodded.

She moved her hand so she could place his hand over her heart. “I cannot offer you the Arkenstone, but my heart is yours, Thorin, such as it is. I will protect your heart, no matter how much it will break mine.”

He shivered at her words, his eyes falling shut. Thorin pulled Bramble against him. He pressed kisses to her face and lips, whispering words Bramble did not know, but understood none the less.

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After days of trying, Thorin finally had fallen asleep. Bramble had no problems admitting it was probably because he was sleeping with his head against her shoulder. (Her excuse, if anyone asked, was so he could listen to her heartbeat.) She stroked his head and shoulders as he slept, whispering kind words if he tried to wake.

Bramble bit her lip to hold back tears. She had wanted Thorin like this, to have quiet moments, to sleep side by side. Not at the cost of health. Not for his sanity. She berated herself for enjoying anything. Thorin was sick, the Company was fearful, and refugees suffered outside the gates of Erebor because of her actions.

Bofur stuck his head in the door, “Have you seen the k…?”

Thorin sat straight up and pulled Bramble behind him as he drew a knife. “What do you want?” Thorin growled.

“The wall is finished,” Bofur said.

Once again, Thorin was gone and the dark-shadowy king had returned. “Start a watch. Everyone not on guard duty will be in the treasury.”

Bofur bowed. “Yes, your majesty.”

Bramble sighed as Thorin left. Bofur helped her to her feet. “I think it’s the first he’s slept since Laketown.”

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Nori grabbed Bramble as she walked out of breakfast to go to the gate. “Time for some more training, professor. This time, knives.”

She pulled the Hobbit in front of a sack of sand and handed her a knife. “Now, show me what you can do.”

As Bramble prepared to throw the knife, Nori began to fuss. “No, lass, you don’t throw the light end first. You throw the heavy end. In this case, it’s the handle.”

“Can’t I just use my sword if I need to hit something far away?” Bramble asked

“Because it’s just stupid.”

“What do you mean it’s stupid?”

Nori sighed. “Hand me Sting, if you will.”

Bramble handed over her short sword. Nori threw it and the sword bounced off the target. “You see? It’s too big to stick to the target much because it doesn’t have enough rotation. It loses momentum.”

“So… don’t throw your sword?”

“Not unless you want to distract someone with how stupid you are.”

Ori shouted, “Oye! I see the Mirkwood flag!”

Bramble sighed and tossed the knife into the sandbag, hitting it dead center. “Just what we needed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The replica Stings I have held have been handle heavy. [Here is a video about sword throwing.](https://youtu.be/wTC_1HRgbuo)


	9. Chapter IX: Who Would Ever Want To Be King?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mirkwood Elves roll up to the ruins of Dale like, what up, where are my jewels?
> 
> Bard and Thorin’s conversation does not go well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Chapter title taken form the lyrics of “Viva La Vida” by Coldplay.

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It took several days, but they finally made it to the ruins of Dale. It was more desolate than Bard remembered from her youthful explorations. Still, most of the place was made of stone and had roofs and functioning plumbing what with the newly returned lake. Boiling water was necessary, but possible with the help of the Iron Hills.

Hilda spoke to Bard quietly. “This food will only last us a few days.”

“Children and wounded can eat first, and the rest will take reduced rations,” Bard said just as quietly.

Bard had the reporters who were covering the attack stay outside of the city as they had campers and tents. If they were not going to share, they were not going to have access. Winifred, the reporter who confronted the army, was allowed inside the camp as she had food and tents delivered from her people and had made the call which finally allowed the Red Tree into New Mexico. Unfortunately, the American army blocked the Red Tree from entering Dale.

Bard made her way to the top of the wall and looked at Erebor. Torches burned brightly at the top of the broken gates.

Thorn made her way up to Bard and gave a sigh of relief. “At least some of my kinsman are alive.”

“I’m glad,” Bard said, “Will you not go to them?”

Thorn stood up straighter. “Ma’am, it is my duty as a knight to care for children and the injured first. Besides, it’s almost night. My cousins would not appreciate an unannounced visit at such an hour.”

“Cousins?”

Thorn nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I’m… well, it’s my first mission out here, you see, and I didn’t want to use my name to make a fuss.”

“And it is…?”

“Thorin Stonehelm, daughter of Dain Ironfoot, ma’am. I’m named after my cousin, so everyone has called me Thorn to avoid confusion. Also, my Dad has said I am as beautiful as a rose with as sharp of thorns since the day I was born.”

Bard nodded her head. “I can see why you were concerned about sharing your name. I would avoid the reporters if you want to keep it from becoming public knowledge.”

“Thank you, ma’am. May my Dwarves and I continue to help in the camp? I would not wish you to think you are indebted to my father or to my cousin. We are a scouting party to see how my cousin’s quest has fared. Once we saw the destruction, we had to help.”

Bard squinted at the Dwarf and realized something. “How old are you?”

“Uh… well… 75, ma’am,” Thorn said, blushing.

“Shouldn’t I be calling you ma’am?” Bard said.

“No! That… that would be absurd. I am quite a young Dwarf. Barely of age, ma’am. I would be about… two, maybe three years older than your eldest daughter? We age differently than Mortal Men,” Thorn said.

“Ah, good to know. Thank you, Thorn,” Bard said. She sighed. “Time to get back to work.”

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Tilda became Thorn’s shadow, asking questions most were too afraid to ask. Thorn answered patiently and as much as she could.

“I can’t tell you. Dwarf secret, I’m afraid,” was often Thorn’s reply.

As Tilda helped fold blankets and Thorn built a fire, the girl asked, “Why do you have a beard but some of the other lady Dwarves don’t?”

“Ah, well, it’s a bit of a story. It’s actually connected to the big, awful dragon your Mother killed,” Thorn said.

“I like stories,” Tilda said.

“Well, both male and female Dwarves grow beards. Back when Dwarves first met Mortal Men, we came across a bit of a problem. You see, Mortal Men didn’t understand why female Dwarves had the same status as male Dwarves. They were very mean to the female Dwarves, so it was agreed female Dwarves would only be discussed as male if they were trading with Mortal Men,” Thorn said. She got the fire to catch and moved on to building the next one.

“But you’re a lady and I met lots of lady Dwarves in the Company. Why are you open about it now?”

“Ah, yes, getting to it. Now, when Smaug came down into Erebor and cast out the people, it was obvious there were some female Dwarves in the mix. The Elves and Mortal Men they met made fun of the women for having beards and wouldn’t trade with them, so, alas, the women if they wanted to trade, they needed to cut their beards.”

“That’s so sad. You have such a pretty beard,” Tilda said.

“Thank you, little one,” Thorn said, patting the child’s head, “I can wear my beard because I don’t spend much time working with Mortal Men and Elves, but Dis, Fili, Glóin and the others do, so they don’t grow their beards often. It might change, now they have a proper home again.”

“I hope so,” Tilda said.

Bard smiled slightly as Tilda continued to ask her questions. Eventually, Thorn and her Dwarves had an entire gaggle of children following them with open awe and love. As Bard fell asleep next to her children, she thought of that bit of friendship and hope for the future.

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Sigrid shook Bard awake. “What’s wrong, Sigrid?”

“Ma, Thorn needs to talk to you. She seems concerned,” Sigrid said.

Bard grabbed her bow and made her way to where Thorn was keeping watch along with one of the residents of Laketown. The sun was just beginning to peak over the mountain.

“Ma’am, you need to come here,” Thorn hissed.

When Bard did, she froze. If she thought two Elves was unnerving, an entire army of them was downright unsettling.

“We swear, we could not hear them,” the Mortal lookout said.

“Aye, we couldn’t even feel them treading the earth,” Thorn said, “Downright unnatural.”

“I don’t think they are here as an enemy,” the Mortal lookout said.

“I agree. I don’t think the Elves are here to cause harm,” Thorn said, “They could have killed all of us without much trouble. It’s why I called you. They are going to want to talk to you and, well, a Dwarf is probably not welcome at the moment, let alone this particular Dwarf.”

“Agreed. Thank you. Stay here. Take these,” Bard said as she handed her weapons over.

Bard made her way down to where the army stood. The soldiers stood apart in a pattern which eventually led her to King Thranduil, sitting on his great Irish Elk.

“My Lord Thranduil, we did not expect you to come,” Bard said, bowing slightly.

“My son told me you needed aid,” Thranduil said. He motioned and the back of one of the many trucks showed a supply of medicine. “Food, water, medicine, shelter, and clothing. Enough for at least a month.”

Bard let out a sigh of relief. “You have saved us. I do not know how to thank you.”

Thranduil raised an eyebrow. “Your gratitude is misplaced. I did not come on your behalf. I came to reclaim something of mine.”

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Thranduil summarized the situation and made a motion for the troops to move out.

Bard said, “Wait! Please wait! You would go to war over a handful of gems.”

“The heirlooms of my people are not lightly forsaken,” Thranduil said.

“We are allies in this. My people also have a claim upon the riches in the mountain. Let me speak with Thorin,” Bard said.

Thranduil spoke in an annoyingly even tone. “You would try to reason with the Dwarf?”

“To avoid war, yes.”

“This is a battle, not a war. It will be over quickly. There is no need to fret.”

Bard gritted her teeth. “That’s what I have been told all my life about wars and it is always a lie. You know who dies the most in such things? Civilians. I’ve seen it myself.”

“You were a warrior?” The Elf king said.

“No. I was a soldier and a sniper. I have no desire for my children to see what I have seen. I have made an agreement with Thorin’s sister. She will be able to persuade him,” Bard said.

Thranduil nodded. “If the Dwarf is in his right mind, it is possible. Go. We will put off our attack for a day unless an agreement is reached.”

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Thorin strode to the gates. “Come on,” he said to the Dwarves. When they reached the wall, they saw a host of Elves in Dale.

“Well, that’s not good news,” Nori muttered.

Bramble squinted. “What’s the flag to the north?”

“It is a sign we have not been abandoned,” Fili said, “Someone from the Iron Hills is here as well.”

Kíli pulled out a spyglass from his pocket. “Definitely Dwarves. I can’t tell who though.”

Thorin looked cheerful for the briefest of moments. “I know who it is. I can send a raven and…”

A motorcycle could be heard coming from the direction of Dale. Thorin’s expression became grim again. “The dragon slayer.”

Bard stopped the motorcycle before the steps leading to the bridge. She took off her helmet and said, “Thorin, son of Thráin. I’m glad to see you’re alive.”

“Why do you come to the gates of the King under the Mountain armed for war?” Thorin asked.

Bard replied, “Why does the king under the mountain fence himself in like a robber in his hold?”

“Perhaps it is because I am expected to be robbed,” Thorin said.

Bard felt a shiver run down her spine. The meeting was already going ill. “Thorin, we have not come to rob you, but to seek fair settlement. You know before all else I am a mother who wants the best for her children. I have no wish for war. Won’t you speak with me?”

Thorin nodded his head and turned to walk to the ground level.

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Bramble sat by the stairs during the exchange. After allowing Bard to speak instead of just shout, Thorin spoke quietly to a raven before it flew away.

“Just tell her we already have three Simrils and she should go away before we taunt her some more,” Bramble snarked.

“I have neither insinuated that her mother was a hamster nor that her father smelled of elderberries,” Thorin said.

Bramble put her hand on Thorin’s arm. “This meeting is not an attack. I do not think Bard has had any hand in the Elves being here.”

“Do you not? Why have the Americans not come to claim their own people? How do you not find this odd?” Thorin said.

“Maybe they have come and left already. Maybe there is some politics going on which have nothing to do with Erebor. The Master did lie to the U.S. government for several years.” Bramble sighed. “We cross our bridges when we come to them and burn them behind us, with nothing to show for our progress except a memory of the smell of smoke, and a presumption that once our eyes watered.”

Thorin frowned and walked past her. Fili wrinkled her nose. “What’s the quote from?”

“ _Rozencrantz and Guilderstern are Dead_ ,” Bramble said, “And if your uncle does not see reason, I fear we shall share the same fates as them.”

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Bard walked across the bridge just as a raven flew overhead towards the city. Stories said the Ravens of Erebor could speak and were friends with the Dwarves. Having spoken with a thrush just a few days before, Bard was more inclined to believe the stories.

Through a hole in the gate, a cell phone and wallet were slid across. Dis said, “I am sorry, Lady Bard.”

“Sister be gone,” Thorin said.

“Yes, sire,” was given with heavy sarcasm.

Bard took the cell phone and wallet, wincing as she held them as she knew them well.

Thorin tilted his head slightly so he could be seen, but did not look directly at Bard. “I am listening.”

She spoke firmly, but without malice. “On behalf of the people of Laketown, I ask you to honor your pledge, a share of the treasure so they can rebuild their lives.”

The Dwarf king said, “I will not treat with anyone while an armed host lies before my door.”

“The Elves will attack this mountain if we don’t come to terms.”

“Your threats do not sway me.”

“What of your conscience? Doesn’t it tell you our cause is just? My people offered you help and in return you brought upon them only ruin and death.”

Thorin turned fully to Bard. “When did the men of Laketown come to our aid but for the promise of rich reward?”

“The bargain was struck.”

“A bargain? What choice did we have but to barter our birthright for blankets and food? To ransom our future in exchange for our freedom? You call it a fair trade? Tell me, Bard the Dragon Slayer, why should I honor such terms?”

“Because you gave us your word. Because I have seen how your family and friends would die to save others and I know you have done the same. Does that mean nothing?”

Thorin disappeared from the opening. He said nothing and Bard hoped perhaps her words would hold some sort of sway. Maybe he would rethink what he would do and…

“Leave before we shoot you!”

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“You cannot go to war,” Bramble said once the Company had reached the ramparts.

“This does not concern you,” Thorin said. _You will be protected. No harm will come to you._

Dis made a strangled choking sound. Thorin hissed something in Khuzdul roughly translated as, “ _Shut up_.”

Bramble grounded her teeth before answering. “Excuse me, but just in case you haven’t noticed, there is an army of Elves out there. Not to mention several hundred angry Lakemen. We are, in fact, outnumbered.”

Thorin turned around and smirked in a way which _almost_ made Bramble forget she was angry at him. “Not for much longer.”

The Hobbit took a breath to try to avoid snarking back her answer. “What does that mean?”

“It means, Professor Baggins, you should never underestimate Dwarves.”

Bramble internally wondered if this was a Dwarven way of flirting. _Why_ Thorin would be flirting at such a time was beyond Bramble’s knowledge of anything sane.

Thorin turned back to the rest of the Company. “We have reclaimed Erebor. Now we defend it.” The King began has long trek back to the treasury.

The looks on everyone else’s faces confirmed Bramble’s understanding that what Thorin was asking them to do was beyond unwise.

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Bard tossed aside her helmet when she found Thranduil on the bridge leading into Dale. She said, “He will give us nothing.”

“Such a pity. Still, you tried.” His tone said otherwise.

“I don’t understand. Why? Why would he risk war?”

A great crash made Bard turn towards Erebor. One of the statues had been brought down to destroy the bridge into Erebor.

Thranduil unsheathed his sword. “It is fruitless to reason with them. They only understand one thing. We attack at dawn. Are you with us?”

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Fili had hidden herself in a rough-hewn corridor which had yet to be developed for public use. She paced up and down, trying not to be overwhelmed by shame. Thorin did not go back on his word. There was little in life Fili could rely on, but her uncle’s word was one of them.

She stopped and examined paintings along the wall. “These weren’t made by Dwarves,” she whispered to herself.

“You’re right. They’re not,” Bramble said.

Fili jumped back. “You startled me, Professor.”

“Apologies. Your mother sent me to tell you they are going through the armory and your presence has been requested.”

“Ah. Yes. Well… what do you mean these weren’t made by Dwarves?”

Bramble tilted her head. “You don’t know about how Erebor was settled?”

“Well, yes. King Thrór and his people were forced out of the Grey Mountains in Norway by Cold-Drakes. The Dwarves came to the New World in search of a new home as no one wanted them in the Old World. They made some deals and a few months later Erebor struck gold.”

“But who did they strike the deals with?” Bramble said.

“I guess… Spain, wasn’t it?” Fili said.

“Partially. This mountain was a waystation for the people commonly known as the Puebloans, though that is too broad of a term. The Tanoans were the specific clan they traded with. You can still visit the Tanoans’ site in San Lazaro, a bit north of here.”

Fili nodded. “I guess it makes sense.”

The two began walking towards the armory. Bramble began reciting a poem.

“Gaily bedight,

A gallant knight,

In sunshine and in shadow, 

Had journeyed long, 

Singing a song,

In search of Eldorado.

But he grew old—

This knight so bold— 

And o’er his heart a shadow— 

Fell as he found

No spot of ground

That looked like Eldorado.

And, as his strength 

Failed him at length,

He met a pilgrim shadow— 

‘Shadow,’ said he, 

‘Where can it be—

This land of Eldorado?’

‘Over the Mountains

Of the Moon,

Down the Valley of the Shadow, 

Ride, boldly ride,’

The shade replied, —

‘If you seek for Eldorado!’”

“Uncle told me that poem when I was little,” Fili said.

“I’m not surprised he’s a Poe fan.”

“Isn’t it about death and how we can’t reach our dreams?”

Bramble nodded. “Something like that.”

“Do you think… do you think that’s why… never mind,” Fili said.

“Why what?” Bramble asked.

“Is it… is Uncle sick because he tried to take this place back? He’s not well. Uncle is never sick,” Fili said.

Bramble stopped walking and turned towards Fili. “There was nothing evil about your Uncle’s quest to take back your people’s home. This place is sick, and it is hurting him and all of us. Home is not the problem. What it has become, is.”

Fili nodded and hugged Bramble. “Will you keep helping Uncle?”

“As long as he will have me, yes,” Bramble said.

The two broke apart and kept walking. When they were near the armory, Fili said, “What did you mean it was a good deal? Earlier, I mean.”

Bramble bit her lip as she thought. “It was a good deal for a mountain which had no known valuable mineral deposits. It was more like the Manhattan deal than the Homestead Act. Your great-grandfather did not go back on his word and he did not send out smallpox infested blankets. He did far better than what the Spanish were doing at the time.”

“But?”

“Nothing. Just… Erebor was isolationist in its tendencies except for trading. They did not side with anyone during the colonizing period and… I know predicting the future is rare and tricky but…” Bramble sighed. “Let’s just say the Dwarves of Erebor were not the only ones to lose their homes because of greed and indifference.”

The Hobbit left. Fili observed Bramble as she skipped and leapt over debris, her steps sure and unimpeded by destruction.

“Fili! We need to find you some armor,” Dis said.

The Crown Princess of Erebor turned around and prepared for battle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: As far as I know, the history is correct of which Native American people lived where at the time, but please correct me if I am wrong. It didn’t feel right just skipping over the colonization period of New Mexico without saying something.
> 
> I had been planning the explanation about the beards for a while and just had not had an opportunity to get to it.
> 
> Dís’ coughing fit was her saying in Khuzdul, “Somebody is sleeping on the couch tonight.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bramble really should ask about Dwarrow dating customs… or at least the exchange rate of mithril.

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After wandering the halls of Erebor for some time to collect herself, Bramble debated whether to enter the armory or not. Thorin made it clear what option he wanted. “Professor Baggins, come here.”

The Hobbit walked down slowly, unsure of what Thorin was about. The rest of the Company sorted through the weapons and armor behind Thorin. The king stood in the doorway and held a silvery vest in his hands.

He took a few steps towards Bramble, clanking each step due to his gold-plated armor. Clank. Clank. Clank. Clank. Raven insignias decorated it, a design particular to Erebor, Bramble knew. She began to regret every wish she had of a knight-in-shining-armor as a young girl.

“You are going to need this. Put it on,” Thorin said.

Bramble thought of protesting for a moment or laughing because _really_ , who ever heard of a Hobbit wearing armor? But Thorin’s eyes… such open concern…

She shrugged off her coat and put it to the side.

“This vest is made of silver steel. _Mithril_ , it was called by my forebears,” Thorin said with open awe.

Bramble put aside her waistcoat, not commenting how _mithril_ sounded Elvish. Where it came from, the Hobbit could not quite remember. For some reason, her brain considered it important, but not important enough to give her some background about the word.

When she looked back up at Thorin, he looked at her through the mithril vest as a strange sort of veil between them. He held up the shirt until Bramble had her arms in it. “No blade can pierce it,” he said before taking a few steps back, partially circling Bramble.

It was a snug, but comfortable fit. (Well, as comfortable as metal could be.) It was far lighter than she imagined. Bramble smoothed it down over her stomach like she would any shirt and glanced up at Thorin as she did. He seemed to be assessing if the vest suited her. She glanced down, feeling out of sorts to wear chain mail with a skirt and rain boots.

Bramble dared to glance over at the Company. They all watched her intently, Bofur with a grin on his face generally meant some sort of merriment was going on. Dis looked… surprised and accepting at the same time. Accepting of _Bramble,_ it seemed. The group seemed to be taking turns nodding or giving the thumbs up.

She glanced down again and gave a polite laugh as she looked back up at Thorin. “I look absurd. I’m not a warrior. I’m a Hobbit.”

“It is a gift from me to you. A token of our… relationship and friendship. True friends are hard to come by,” Thorin said. He slapped his hand on her shoulder and Bramble did not even feel it. He made them walk a few steps from the Company and into the shadows. “I have been blind. Now I begin to see.” They stopped walking and Bramble stood a few inches from a wall, Thorin a hands-breadth away, his eyes bright. “I am betrayed.”

The Hobbit tried to guess if she could run faster than Thorin could grab her. “Betrayed?”

“The Arkenstone.” Thorin took another step towards Bramble, crowding her. “One of them has taken it,” he whispered, “One of them is false.”

Bramble nearly fainted with relief, but immediately went to try to calm Thorin. His voice sounded strange and he looked almost frightened. “Thorin… the quest is fulfilled. You have won the mountain. You legally own it both by line and by possession. Is that not enough?” She wished Thorin wore less armor so she could stroke his hand.

“Betrayed by my own kin.”

“No.” Bramble took a breath as she tried to grasp onto something besides family Thorin would respect. “You have given a promise to the people of Laketown. Is this treasure truly worth more than your honor? _Our honor._ I was also there. I gave my word.”

He gave a small and sincere smile. “For that I am grateful. It was nobly done, but the treasure in this mountain does not belong to the people of Laketown. This gold…” He took Bramble’s hand in his and kissed it, all traces of Thorin gone when he looked up. “… is ours and ours alone.”

As Thorin took a few steps back, his voice morphed into a sound Bramble hoped never to hear again: the rumbling, hissing sound of a dragon. “By my life, I will not part with a single coin. Not one piece of it.”

The Company began to walk past. Bramble realized whatever was happening to Thorin could not be fixed by her. She needed help and she needed it quickly or else she feared Thorin would lose himself to dragon sickness.

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Thorin had to check on the gold. Ravens or rats might have sneaked in while he was in the armory. He had barely begun his rounds when he found Bramble sitting on the edge of a platform, her legs dangling slightly above a pile of coins.

“Has it been found?” Thorin asked.

“No, Thorin. It’s time for dinner. Will you come with me?” Bramble asked.

Thorin rubbed his forehead. “It can’t be. It is not even noon yet.”

“It most certainly is evening.”

He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Bramble’s forehead. “I’ll come later.”

“No, you won’t. You haven’t before,” Bramble said.

Thorin frowned. He tried to stroke Bramble’s cheek but found she shied away from his gloved hands. “Are you frightened of what I said to you?”

Bramble sighed. “I am frightened those gauntlets are going to scratch up my face.”

He began to untie his gauntlets, but Bramble stilled his hands and did it for him. She slid off his gloves with slow movements. Her fingers gently pressed against the pulse point in his wrists as if she feared his heart would stop. “You worry far too much about me, dear burglar.”

“I don’t worry about you nearly enough.” She sighed when he cupped her face in his hands.

“How can such a small person have such power over me?” Thorin whispered.

Bramble’s eyes opened. “What… Thorin, no. I don’t have power over you. Why would you say that?”

“I am yours entirely. Anything you ask, I will do.”

“It doesn’t work like that, Thorin.”

He leaned forward to press a kiss to her forehead. “It is true though.”

“I will not have you be a slave to me, Thorin. No one should be put through that, and I particularly don’t want that to happen to you.” She stroked his hair, causing Thorin to rest his head on her shoulder. Bramble spoke softly in his ear. “We are our own persons. We may do as we please. I have no power or claim over you nor vice versa.”

“I wish to, though.” He moved so he could look at Bramble’s eyes. “You have never asked for power over me nor asked for your claim. You would rather carry an acorn in your pocket than have a cavern full of gold. How could I not wish to serve such a soul?”

Bramble looked away and down, slightly embarrassed. “You make far too much of it. I just don’t want to dust all this gold. That’s all.”

Thorin smiled and tilted Bramble’s head up so they could look at each other. “If I swear you have no power over me as well as no claim over me, that all I do and give is because I wish to do it, would you believe me?”

The Hobbit nodded.

“I swear by my forefathers and the foundation of my home, that I, Thorin, son of Thráin, King under the Mountain, that everything I do for Belladonna Bramble Baggins, Professor of Hobbiton University, is by my own will. She has no power or claim over me.”

Bramble gave a small smile. “I do not have something as grand as that, but I do swear, Thorin, everything I do, I do for you because I believe in you. It is never by your power as a king, but simply because you are Thorin. I will do just about anything to protect you. Remember that, won’t you?”

Thorin grinned and leaned in for a kiss when he heard someone walking on the gold near them. He turned around and said, “Have you found it?”

Dis said, “I was just coming to say we have put some dinner away for the two of you.”

“Fine. You may leave,” Thorin said.

Bramble sighed and moved off the platform. “Will you come with me, Thorin?”

The Dwarf could barely hear the Hobbit. “In a minute. I am just going to check over here.”

He did not see the nod of understanding between Dis and Bramble. Thorin went back to the gold, unaware of what was to come.

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Bramble paced along the causeway of the gate, occasionally looking up at the stars. Her mind rambled as she tried to decide on a course of action.

_We Hobbits have given up on them lot listening to us. I mean, whichever one of them made us abandoned us to this world. They’ve never heard our pleas or our cries for mercy. They don’t listen to anyone as far as I can tell. Are we some sort of experiment to them? Are we some sort of ant farm they left to die after they got their blue ribbon for whatever they made? I am angry at them. Right and properly angry. And you know what? I am not even scared. You know why? Because the lot of them won’t do anything to me._

_I wish I could talk to Mum and Dad. Not that they would know what to do, but they would remind me of how to choose the right path. Thorin is a good man and he’s sick. I can’t let him and the rest of the Company die because of his illness. I know sometimes the only choices you have are bad ones, but you still have to choose. Please, let one of my choices be good._

The Hobbit froze when she heard footsteps. Bofur climbed up the stairs to stand next to Bramble. The Dwarf sighed as he leaned against the wall.

“Beautiful, aren’t they? The stars, I mean,” Bofur said.

“Yes, they are. I didn’t think Dwarves cared about them,” Bramble said.

“Not as a rule, no. But… we recognize beauty when we see it, even if we are grumpy about it,” Bombur said.

Bramble sighed and looked down at the destroyed bridge. “It’s all wrong. It wasn’t supposed to go this way. Smaug would be slain. Thorin would be a good king. I would go home to my books and my armchair. And now…” She waved her hand in exasperation. “Luck is against us.”

Bofur nodded. After a moment of silence, he said, “‘Men at some time are masters of their fates:/The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, / But in ourselves, that we are underlings.’” The Dwarf took a deep breath before continuing. “I feel weary, sister, and yet it is my turn to sit-up for the watch.”

“Oh, I, um… I don’t mind keeping watch for you,” Bramble said.

The Dwarf patted Bramble on her shoulder before walking back into the mountain.

Bramble looked back up at the stars. “Okay. I’ve lost the wizard and I’ve lost the Dwarves.” She paced the causeway. “Go back to Thorin? No good at all! Go sideways and do nothing? Impossible! Go forward to Dale? I suppose… it is the only thing to do. On we go.”

And so, the thief in the night slid down a rope and made her way to Dale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I wrote the last scene before the Extended Edition came out. Though I liked the scene in the movie, I stuck with the one I originally wrote.
> 
> Shiny crystals to those who correctly identify where the chapter title comes from. The Shakespeare quote is from _Julius Caesar_.


	11. Chapter XI: Everybody Wants to Rule the World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bard is 500% done with everything, especially anything to do with Elves. Bramble adds to the drama by bringing a certain shiny rock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Chapter title comes from the song of the same name as sung by Lorde. Yes, it is because of the _Dracula Untold_ trailer.

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Bard knew of, but had never met, Gandalf the Grey. He was not particularly impressive. He was an old man in a dirty, grey suit and he carried a blue fedora in his hand.

“Who’s in charge here?” the man said.

“Who’s asking?” Bard said.

“I am Gandalf the Grey, and I need to speak with King Thranduil,” the old man said.

As if He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had been called, Thranduil appeared behind Bard. “What is it you wish to discuss with me Mithrandir?”

“We must speak some place more private,” Gandalf said.

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In the Elf King’s opulent tent, Thranduil began pouring two glasses of wine as Gandalf spoke.

“You must set aside your petty grievances with the Dwarves. War is coming. The cesspits of Dol Guldur have been emptied. You are all in mortal danger,” Gandalf said.

Bard felt a cold wind in her bones. “What are you talking about?”

Thranduil handed a glass of wine to Bard and kept the other for himself. “I can see you know nothing of wizards. They are like winter thunder on a wild wind rolling in from a distance breaking hard and long, but sometimes a storm is just a storm.”

The wizard shook his head. “Not this time. Armies of Orcs are on the move. These are fighters who have been bred for war. Our enemy has summoned their full strength.”

“Why show his hand now?” Thranduil said.

Gandalf said, “We forced them to act. We forced them when the Company of Thorin Oakenshield went to reclaim their homeland. The Dwarves were never meant to reach Erebor. Azog the Defiler was sent to kill them. Its master seeks control of the mountain. Not just the treasure within, but for where it lies. Its strategic position. This is the perfect position to take over the North American continent and then, possibly, the world. Rivendell, Lothlorien, the Shire, even Gondor itself will fall.”

“These Orc armies you speak of, where are they?” Thranduil said.

“The Americans would have either left or brought more fire power if there was an army coming,” Bard added.

“I do not know, but it is not impossible to conceal them either by magic or technology. Since when has my counsel counted for so little? What do you think I’m trying to do?” Gandalf said.

Thranduil stood up and walked to the opening of the tent. “I think you’re trying to save your Dwarvish friends. And I admire your loyalty to them. But it does not dissuade me from my cause. You started this Mithrandir. You’ll forgive me if I finish it.” The king spoke to his guard. “Are the snipers in position?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Give the order, if anything moves on the mountain, kill it. The Dwarves are out of time.”

Bard pushed past the king and left, wishing to leave such madness. After she had checked on the state of her children, night had fallen, and the wizard had found her.

“You! Bowman! Did you agree to this? Is gold so important to you? Would you buy it with the blood of Dwarves?” Gandalf said.

“It will not come to that. This is a fight they cannot win,” Bard said.

A female voice said, “That won’t stop them! You think the Dwarves will surrender? They won’t. They will fight to the death to defend their own."

“Bramble Baggins!” Gandalf said.

The Hobbit, who had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, gave a broad grin. “Gandalf! You’re alright!”

The wizard patted Bramble’s shoulder. “My dear, what has happened to you and the Dwarves?”

Bramble stiffened. “It’s… it’s not good Gandalf. Thorin is sick and I don’t think he is going to get better unless we do something drastic.”

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There were many strange meetings Bard had attended in her life, but sitting with the King of Mirkwood, a wizard, and a Hobbit all with different motives and visions was the strangest. Bard was a bit worried for the Hobbit. There were healing burn marks on her hands and ears, the skirt she had worn out of Laketown was shredded, and she looked even more gaunt than when they first met.

“If I am not mistaken, this is the Halfing who stole the keys to my dungeon from under the nose of my guards,” Thranduil said.

Bramble thought for a moment. “Yes. You stole my Dwarves and I stole them back. I think we’re quite even, don’t you think?”

“Hardly,” Thranduil said.

The Hobbit almost rolled her eyes but resisted at the last moment. “I can make it up to you. I can end this war without a drop of blood. Interested?”

Thranduil and Bard nodded.

“I came to loan you this.” She placed on the table a small bundle covered in rags made from the Hobbit’s skirt. When Bramble unwrapped it, it revealed a jewel which glowed on its own.

Bard and Thranduil stood when they saw what it was. The Elf said, “The Heart of the Mountain. The King's Jewel.”

“And worth a King's ransom... how is this yours to give?” Bard said.

The Hobbit spoke gently, “Loan. Just a temporary loan. I took this mathom as my fifteenth share of the treasure.”

“Why would you do this? You owe us nothing,” Bard said.

Bramble shook her head. “I'm not doing it for you. I know Dwarves can be obstinate and pigheaded and difficult. They're suspicious and secretive, with the worst manners you can possibly imagine. But they are also brave, kind, and loyal to a fault. I've grown very fond of them, and I would save them if I can. Now, Thorin values this jewel above all else. In exchange for its return, I believe he will give you what you were owed. There will be no need for war.”

The wizard placed his hand on Bramble’s shoulder. “I believe this is the best course of action. Now, I am certain the Hobbit is tired, and I will take care of her. Come up with a way to execute this plan. Ms. Bargeman, do keep King Thranduil from making Thorin any more upset than he has to be.”

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Gandalf walked with Bramble through Dale. The wizard said, “Rest up tonight. We must leave tomorrow.”

“What?”

“We need to get as far away from here as possible.”

Bramble stopped walking. “I’m not leaving. You picked me out for this Company. I am not about to leave my friends now.”

“There is no Company. Not anymore. I don’t want to think about what Thorin will do when he finds out what you have done.”

The Hobbit huffed. “I’m not afraid of Thorin.”

Gandalf spun around. “But you should be. Do not underestimate the evil of gold; gold of which a serpent has long brooded. Dragon sickness seeps into the hearts of all who come near this mountain.” He smiled slightly. “Almost all of us.”

Bramble looked down at the ground. “I wanted to keep it, you know. Put it up on my mantelpiece with the pictures of my parents. I’m not immune. Don’t make me out to be some pure heroine.”

Gandalf got down to one knee to have better eye contact with Bramble. “How long did this idea plague you?”

“Since Smaug died,” Bramble said. She sniffed. “I still want to, but I can’t do that to them.”

“A thought, even a pervasive one, does not make you evil. It is what you do against such falsehoods and how you act which makes you the person you are,” Gandalf said.

“But it’s always there. My mind made it,” Bramble said.

Gandalf placed a hand on her shoulder. “My dear, you have given up your part of the treasure to save your friends. I believe you have done the best you can.”

“But it’s not good enough,” Bramble said, “I just want them safe, Gandalf. Thorin and I are… we are so similar in that regard. We can’t both be sick. Who can take care of him if I’m sick?”

The wizard raised an eyebrow. “Bramble, is there anything you wish to tell me?”

Bramble crossed her arms over her chest. “I can’t lose them. I love them. They’re my friends and… Thorin is something else as well to me.”

“And he returns those feelings?”

She shrugged. “I think so. We spoke briefly before I went into the Lonely Mountain and after that he has been ill so… I don’t know if he cares for me like I do for him or if it is merely possessiveness.”

Gandalf smiled slightly as he caught the glint of the moon off the mithril chain mail. “I can promise you, Bramble, Thorin cares for you in the same way. He has since we knew you lived after crossing the Misty Mountains.”

“Are you just saying that or are you being truthful?”

“I am speaking the truth. He has certainly been fond of you since I first saw the two of you together in your office.”

Bramble laughed without humor. “Please. I think you’re getting a bit romantic in your old age, Gandalf.”

“Hardly, but I see you will not believe me tonight.” The wizard stood up and motioned to one of the women of Dale. “Find this Hobbit a bed and fill her belly with warm food. She’s earned it. Keep an eye on her. If she tries to leave, tell me.” He patted Bramble’s shoulder. “It will all look better in the morning, dear Hobbit.”

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Bramble was grateful for the food and she did rest for a half hour before she made her escape back to Erebor. The rope still hung by the wall and she climbed her way up a few minutes before the next watch. Once she had finished her watch, she went back to the treasury.

Thorin still searched amongst the piles of gold for the Arkenstone. Bramble spoke to him. “I doubt the Elven King will demand to see the Arkenstone from you tomorrow and certainly not Bard. You should rest so you can be ready for what will come.”

The Dwarf made no answer. Bramble laid down her blanket at the edge of the gold, not touching it, but close enough for Thorin to call for her. “I wish you would come back to me. Please come back, Thorin,” she whispered to herself as she fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I had been playing with the idea in [this post](http://fargreencountryswiftsunrise.tumblr.com/post/106712210778/avelera-this-forest-feels-sick-bilbo#notes) since DOS, but Avelera put it into words.


	12. Chapter XII: Of Traitors and Fools, Of Beggars and Thieves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Content Warning:** A partner threatening violence during an episode of mental illness.
> 
> Oh yeah folks. It’s _that_ scene. Please take a paper bag and a shock blanket on your way in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Chapter title taken from “Darkest Part” by RED.

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The thieves slithered towards Erebor. Thorin waited upon the ramparts in all his kingly splendor to watch these intruders. A thousand Elves in armor, carrying long bows, marched towards Erebor.

The rest of the Company stood with him. Even traitors would fight for their own necks.

Bramble though… she stood a few feet away, looking between him and the Elves. She was frightened, though she had no reason to be. He would keep her safe until Dain arrived and they could do what was necessary to protect the treasure. The bright light of his Hobbit would be kept safe.

All they had to do was stall for time. Everything would soon be right. All would be well.

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Bramble squinted at what Thranduil rode. “What by all the powers that be is that?”

“That’s an Irish Elk,” Kíli said with a certain bit of admiration.

“I thought those were extinct,” Bramble said.

“I can arrange that,” Thorin growled.

“You will not cause the extinction of a species, Thorin,” Bramble said with a sigh.

“It’s obviously evil if it allows the pointy-eared cretin to ride it,” Thorin said.

“Stop offending everyone with pointy-ears you round-eared barbarian,” Bramble said evenly.

Thorin ignored the last comment and pulled out his sniper rifle to shoot a bullet near the feet of the approaching envoy. Bramble face palmed.

“I will put the next one between your eyes,” Thorin said.

The Company gave a cheer at their king’s words. Bramble said nothing.

Thranduil nodded his head and a thousand Elves had their bows aimed at Thorin and the Company. Everyone except for the king ducked for cover. Thranduil raised his hand and the Elves unarmed their bows.

The Elven King spoke. “We have come to tell you payment for your debt has been offered and accepted.”

“What payment? I gave you nothing. You have nothing,” Thorin snarled.

Thranduil raised his eyebrows slightly before Bard spoke. “We have this.” She pulled out of her leather jacket the Arkenstone.

Bramble bit her lip as she saw the look of shock on Thorin’s face and the rest of the Company.

“They have the Arkenstone,” Kíli whispered.

Fili shouted before restraining herself. “THIEVES! How came you by the emblem of our house? The Arkenstone belongs to the king!”

Bard spoke again. “The king may have it with our goodwill.” She tossed the precious gem into the air and caught it before stashing it in her coat again. “But first, he must honor his word.”

Thorin shook his head before speaking to the Company. “They are taking us for fools. This is a ruse. A filthy lie.” He spoke to the host before the gates. “The Arkenstone is in this mountain. It is a trick.”

Bramble could not let this continue. She stepped away from the wall and towards Thorin. “It’s no trick. The stone is real. I gave it to them.”

Thorin froze for an eternally long moment. Then his head turned towards Bramble, anger in his eyes mixed with confusion. “You.”

Bramble took a moment to gather herself. “I took it as my fifteenth share.”  
"You would steal from me?" Thorin’s voice was far too quiet.

"Steal from you? No. No, I may be a burglar, but I’d like to think that I’m an honest one. I’m willing to let it stand against my claim.” Bramble smiled slightly, hoping Thorin would see that everything had been done through her part of the contract.

“Against your claim? Your. Claim.” Thorin laughed without humor. “You have no claim over me, you miserable rat!”

She was many things, but a rat was not one of them. Bramble’s anger against the cursed piece of rock began to seep through into her speech. “I was going to give it to you. Many times, I wanted to but…”

“But what, thief?”

“You are changed, Thorin! The Dwarf I met in my classroom and sung in my home would never have gone back on his word! Would have never doubted the loyalty of his kin!”

As she watched Thorin, she realized something broke in him sometime during their conversation. “Do not speak to me of loyalty.” He seemed to be holding back tears, but let his anger flow free. “Throw her from the ramparts.”

Bramble sighed in exasperation. _Thorin always has been a bit of a drama king. Really? ‘Throw her from the ramparts.’ Could he be more cliché?_

“Did you not hear me?” Thorin said as he looked at the shocked Company. He tried to grab Fíli’s arm, but she pulled away and glared at her uncle.

Thorin looked around once again. “I will do it myself.”

“Curse you.” His eyes were wild. Bramble began walking backwards. Whatever was before her was not Thorin.

The-Not-Thorin spoke louder as he walked towards the Hobbit. “Curse the wizard who forced you on this Company. ON ME!”

Bramble tripped and fell backwards, landing hard on her back and elbows. She yipped from the unexpected pain.

The-Not-Thorin froze. The light shifted as he tilted his head. Thorin looked confused as to why Bramble was on the ground.

A great voice shook the stone of the mountain and said, “If you don't like my burglar, then please, don't damage her! Return her to me!”

Thorin looked at Bramble, the wizard, and back Bramble. “GET OUT OF MY SIGHT, TRAITOR!”

Bramble had to scramble past Thorin. He seemed to cling to the wall to resist throwing her over. Bofur grabbed Bramble’s arm and led her towards the rope which would let her over the wall.

Bramble began to babble, her mind feeling separated from her body. “Don’t hurt him, Bofur. Please don’t. He’s sick.”

“I won’t harm him. I promise,” Bofur said.

“Be careful,” Bramble said.

“I always am,” Bofur said.

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_Traitors. All are traitors. What a fool you are, Thorin. Beggars and thieves surround you. How could you let your guard down for a moment? How could you trust that wretched woman?_

He could hear the thief trying not to sob over being caught stealing from him. The heartless, destroying thief.

_Kill her. Throw her over the wall. Why did you tell her she could leave? They will view you as weak._

_I_ _cannot. She will die in the melee. I cannot kill her myself._

_The Hobbit has survived worst. If you wanted her dead, you should have taken the mithril. The traitors will have outright rebellion._

The wizard’s voice broke through Thorin’s thoughts. “You are not making a very splendid figure as King Under the Mountain are you, Thorin son of Thráin.”

At the mention of his father’s name, Thorin broke out of his darkened state and shouted, “Never again will I have dealings with wizards or Shire rats!”

The Hobbit was off the wall.

_Get away. Get away. Get away._

_Shoot her. Shoot her. Shoot her._

Bard spoke again. “Are we resolved? The return of the Arkenstone for what was promised.”

“Why should I buy back what is rightfully mine!” Thorin said as he began to pace the wall as a caged animal.

“Keep the stone. Sell it.” Thranduil looked at Bard with a barely held back smirk. “Ecthelion of Gondor will give you a good price for it.”

“I will kill you!! Upon my oath, I will kill you all!” Thorin shouted.

Thranduil looked at the Hobbit as she stumbled to stand next to the wizard. “Your oath means nothing. I have heard enough.” He motioned for his Elves to take aim.

Gandalf pleaded with the Dwarf king. “Thorin, lay down your arms. Open these doors. This treasure will be your death.”

Balin tried to speak words of wisdom and, for one painfully hopeful moment, it seemed as if Thorin was listening.

Bard said, “Give us your answer. Will you have peace or war?”

A raven landed on the wall next to the King of Erebor. Thorin turned his attention back to the enemies before his home, his eyes settling on the trembling thief by the wizard. The wretch solidified Thorin’s decision, even before he heard the approaching army. “I will have war.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This scene was very uncomfortable for me to write as was the scene in Part II when Thorin threatened Bramble when Smaug was chasing them. As you have noticed, I did edit those scenes to the point where I was… not running away from the situation. Long story short, I have seen enough people with mental illness to know they may not want to hurt you when they are well, but you cannot expect love to resolve everything. And just… remember, this is a magical mental illness and will thus have a simpler resolution than if someone in the non-magical world when someone threatens to kill another person. In the non-magical world therapy is necessary and may not resolve things. That’s about it I am comfortable with writing about the subject.
> 
> Unrelated to mental illness, the music video for the song that inspired the title for this chapter is probably my favorite music video by RED. There is both a short and long version of the music video.


	13. Chapter XIII: The Clouds Burst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dain Ironfoot is here to kick butt.

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Dain Ironfoot considered himself a reasonable Dwarf. He tried to find a diplomatic solution whenever possible. He tried to give people the benefit of the doubt. Much to his heart’s pain, he had not given his support to his cousin’s quest to reclaim Erebor. It was the only reasonable response he could as he and the Ironhills did not have the resources to fight a dragon.

When it came to the traitorous, _Twilight_ sparkling, pointy-eared, Elf, Dain was not reasonable. He was particularly unreasonable when said Elf was laying siege to his cousin’s home. Dain had even sent a trusted scouting party ahead to make sure Laketown would see reason. When that failed, there was only one thing to do.

Dain Ironfoot, Lord of the Iron Hills, would fight to protect his family and make the traitorous scum pay for their evil deeds.

So, with a bit of yelling at his council and the blessing of his wife, Dain Ironfoot went to war to defend Erebor.

“Hey! Thorin! Ironfoot has come,” Dain said in greeting.

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As the Dwarf army came over the hill, Bramble staggered to her feet. The Dwarves of Erebor let out as great a cheer as when they found the door. The Elves spun around to aim their weapons at the new force.

“Gandalf, is that is who I think it is? He doesn’t look very happy,” Bramble said.

The wizard sighed as he and the Hobbit began walking with Thranduil’s entourage. “It is Dain, Lord of the Iron Hills, Thorin's cousin.”

“Are they alike? I mean, the stories are not always… accurate,” Bramble said.

Gandalf paused for a moment before responding. “I have always found Thorin to be the more reasonable of the two.”

“Fantastic,” Bramble said without enthusiasm.

Dain Ironfoot rode out to the front of the line on his ATV known as the Boar. “Good morning. How are we all? I have a wee proposition, if you wouldn’t mind giving me a few moments of your time. Would you consider JUST SODDING OFF! All of you! Right now!”

“Steady,” Bard said as the townsfolk took several steps back.

The wizard made it to the front of the line facing Dain and his heavily armored Dwarves. Bramble stayed one step behind glancing between Thorin and his cousin. Gandalf said, “Come now, Lord Dain.”

“Gandalf the Grey. Tell this rabble to leave or I will water the ground with their blood!” Dain said.

“There is no need for war between Dwarves, Men, and Elves. A legion of Orcs marches on the mountain. Stand your army down,” Gandalf said.

Dain huffed. “I will not stand down before any Elf! Not least this faithless woodland sprite! He wishes nothing but ill upon my people! If he chooses to stand between me and my kin, I'll split his pretty head open! See if he's still smirking then!”

The Dwarves of Erebor and the Iron Hills both cheered. Bramble even saw Thorin smiling so much like his normal self it hurt her.

The Elf King seemed amused by the proceedings despite Bard looking ready to smack Thranduil over the head. Thranduil said, “He's clearly mad like his cousin. Let them advance. See how far they get.”

“You think I give a dead dog for your threats you pointy-eared prat? You hear that lads? We're on! Let's give them a good hammering!” Dain said. He began giving orders to his men on where to position themselves.

Thranduil spun around and brought his Elves forward. To Bard he said, “Stand your people down. I will deal with Ironfoot and his rabble.”

A line of ATV’s fitted with tank-armor went by the name “Mountain Goats” made their way through Dain’s army. The wizard pushed Bramble towards Bard and the Hobbit understood to stand back.

“Thranduil this is madness!” Gandalf shouted.

The Elves let loose their arrows. As they did, Dain gave a command. Several projectiles were shot from the Dwarves spun in the air. These projectiles destroyed the Elves’ arrows into splinters, falling harmless on the Dwarves’ heads. The Dwarves’ flying weapon killed an entire line of Elves. Bramble let out an unintentional scream; she covered her mouth with both her hands.

“Hey how do you like the old twidly-widlies?” Dain said.

More arrows and more tidly-widlies. Another row of Elves killed. The front lines switched around for the Elf King’s armies as they prepared to shield themselves from the Mountain Goats.

Bard flinched and saw Bramble covering her face and shaking. “Hobbit, you match wits with a dragon and become faint-hearted at the sight of war?”

The Dwarves rammed through the Elves’ line of defense.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen. They’re Elves. They’re immortal. They’re not supposed to die. The Dwarves shouldn’t be here. None of them were supposed to die. This is my fault,” Bramble said more to herself than to Bard.

“If it’s anyone’s fault it’s his,” Bard said as she tilted her head towards where Thorin watched the battle with calm.

The Dwarves and Elves entered a free-for-all, evenly matched.

The earth began to shake. Out from the side of one of the hills surrounding Erebor giant worms burst from the earth. From the parts of them Bramble could see, they looked to be the size of Smaug if not larger.

Thorin and Thranduil seemed to agree whatever was happening was both awe and fear inspiring.

“Were-Worms,” Gandalf said.

Bramble and Bard said at the same time, “The spice must flow.”

Dain said aloud what everyone else was thinking. “Oh, come on.”

A shout came from Ravenhill. A pale Orc stood before war flags. An Orc army crawled out of the depths of the earth.

Dain gained back his bearing. “THE HORNS OF DARKNESS ARE UPON US! TO BATTLE! TO BATTLE SONS OF DURIN!”

The Army of the Iron Hills road down to the plain before Erebor to make their stand. They were able to send off a few mortar rounds which caused some of the Orcs to die, but technology had only so much power against creatures of magic. The Dwarves switched to their spears and halberds and ran towards the coming army.

Bramble looked around and saw the Elves no longer had their bows raised though they faced the ensuing battle. “The Elves won’t fight?”

When it seemed, the Orcs would hit the Dwarves at their full force, the Elves leapt over the Dwarves and cut a swath of destruction through the Orc forces.

For a moment, Gandalf looked relieved while Thranduil, for once, did not look smug. The wizard began to move forward as Bard ordered the survivors of Laketown to take a stand.

Bramble put her hand on her sword as they began to move forward. “Uh, Gandalf? Is this a good place to stand?”

The wizard said quietly, “I am afraid there is no such thing in this battle.” He looked back at Erebor and shook his head.

Bramble looked back as well. Thorin was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Yes, I do want you to imagine Dwayne Johnson with a thick Scottish accent. I’ve been giggling over the thought of it since I realized Dwayne Johnson would be a perfect Dwarf.
> 
> Fun fact, the Were-Worms are Tolkien compliant. They are mentioned as some fantastical creatures that may or may not exist in Arda. 
> 
> But come on, I cannot have been the only one thought they were ripping off _Dune_.


	14. Chapter XIV: Not Ready To Die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I do not love the bright sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory. I love only that which they defend. - Faramir in _The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers_ by J.R.R. Tolkien

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Chapter title taken from the song “Hero” by Skillet.

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It had been many years since Bard had been in a battle. It had been a different desert with a different enemy who had no magic, but the smell and sounds were just a terrible as they had been less than two decades before.

For the moment, the poorly equipped Mortal Men had been kept out of the fight. The situation would not last. The Elves of the Woodland Realm and the Dwarves of the Iron Hills were being cut down faster than they could do the same to the Orcs.

The flags with the Pale Orc on Ravenhill moved. Another army come out from hiding and began to march towards Dale.

Gandalf thought through the possibilities that could happen. “Azog is trying to cut us off.”

Trolls with catapults strapped to their backs crawled out of the were-worms’ caves.

“All of you, fall back to Dale, now!” Bard said as she saw as the wizard did what was happening.

In fact, the only good news in this mess was that Gandalf was going with the Men of Dale. The wizard said, “To the city! Bramble! This way!”

The trolls with catapults got onto all fours. Orcs on their backs fired on the city, knocking down the wall facing Erebor.

It was not close enough for some of the Orcs. They sent a troll with a rock on its head to knock down another part of the wall to let in some of the army. As Bard drove into the city on her motorcycle, she could already hear the screaming.

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Bard dismounted as bodies began to block the streets. She pulled out her sword and made her way towards where the people of Laketown were running. “My children! Where are my children!”

One of the elderly women said, “I saw them! They were down in the old market!”

Bard asked the woman, “Where are they now?”

Before the woman could answer, one of the elderly men came up to Bard. “Orcs are storming over the causeway.”

Bard motioned to the men and women behind her. “Get the rifleman and archers to the eastern parapet. Hold them off for as long as you can.”

“The market is overrun!” another man said.

Bard gritted her teeth. “The rest of you! Follow me!”

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In some ways, killing was the same be it an Orc or a Mortal Man. The cries of pain, the slick feeling of blood beneath one’s feet. In this case it was different. The war before was about money for people who could care less about Bard and her kin. This time it was to save her children from Orcs who only desired to destroy anything not like them.

Bard cut through another Orc just as the Hobbit killed another Orc that had tried to attack Bard from behind. The Hobbit had stayed by Gandalf’s side during the fight, but had moved farther abroad to defend Bard.

The Lady of Dale cut through two more Orcs before hearing her three favorite voices. “Ma! We’re over here!”

“Sigrid! Bain! Tilda!” Bard said. She felt relief for the briefest of moments.

A smaller troll stumbled out of the ruins with a club in its hand.

Bain and Sigrid spun around, swords in their hands, as they tried to keep Tilda hidden. There was no way they could win.

Bard looked around and saw a cart on its side. She pushed it upright before pushing it down the hill. “Get down!”

Bard’s children fell to the ground just before the cart went over them. Bard leapt out of the cart and onto the troll, driving her sword through its heart. She stumbled back onto the ground before being surrounded by her children.

A moment of relief was allowed before Bard spoke to her children. She saw the Orc blood on the swords her eldest children held and felt the urge to empty what little was left in her stomach. “Listen. I need you to gather up the townsfolk unable to fight and take them to the great hall and barricade the door. You understand? Do not come out for any reason.”

“We want to stay with you!” Bain said.

“I know you do, but I need to know the three of you are safe.”

Hilda Bianca diverted from the crowd of people running and picked up the sobbing Tilda. “I’ll protect them Bard.”

“Thank you.” Bard said, “Go! I love all of three of you!”

After Bard’s children were out of sight, she ran back up the hill to where the rest of the people of Laketown were fighting. She cut off an Orc’s head which tried to take down the Hobbit. They were losing and Bard was not sure how much longer they could keep fighting unless something drastic happened to change their odds.

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The same desperation was true before the walls of Erebor. Elves and Dwarves were falling in greater and greater numbers. They were losing ground.

Thorn killed a particularly nasty looking Orc before hearing the Lord of the Iron Hills say, “Duck!”

The young soldier crouched down just as Dain swung his war hammer to knock down four Orcs in a single swing.

Dain shouted, “Where’s Thorin? We need him! Where is he? Fall back! Fall back to the barricade!”

The Lord of the Iron Hills just hoped by the time they reached it, Thorin would be there to defend the army instead of allowing them to be slaughtered before the gates of Erebor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I was jittery the whole time writing this. Writing battle scenes stresses me out.


	15. Chapter XV: A Heart That Is Made of Gold Can’t Really Beat at All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dis and Dwalin try to reason with Thorin, but reason is nothing to madness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Title from the lyrics of “Faust, Midas, and Myself” by Switchfoot.

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As the battle began, Fili tossed the rope over the wall. “I’m going to fight. Who’s coming with me?”

Thorin walked down the stairs back into Erebor. “Stand down.”

Fili snapped, “Are we to do nothing?”

“I said stand down,” Thorin commanded.

Dis handed Fili her sniper rifle. “Shoot down all of the enemy you can, but do not disobey your uncle in this.”

Fili gritted her teeth before looking down and saying, “Yes, ma’am.”

“Amad, he tried to kill the professor!” Kíli said, “He wouldn’t do that unless he had gone mad!”

Dis covered her son’s mouth. “Silence, Kíli. Stay with your sister.”

Kíli huffed and looked towards the battle. Dis dropped her hand before hugging her son. “Continue to be this good, Kíli.”

Dis began the long walk to the throne room. Dwalin walked two steps behind Dis. “You should stay with the others, Dwalin.”

“Kíli is right. Thorin is not in his right mind. I have no doubt he would have killed the Hobbit if he had the chance. Who is to say he will not try to do the same to you?”

“Who’s to say he wouldn’t try to kill you?” Dis replied. She sighed. “They will all die if he does not help them. We cannot withstand a siege, even if our gate was not broken.”

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Thorin sat on his great throne in shadow. He was motionless as Dis and Dwalin approached him. “Brother, I have come to speak with…”

“You have been spreading lies amongst my people, have you not?” Thorin said.

“Excuse me?” Dis said as she stopped before the steps leading to the throne.

“You are trying to make my people turn against me so you can put Fili on the throne as a puppet ruler for your own interests,” Thorin said.

“I would never…”

“I should have known you would betray me the day you brought before me a man to be your husband who was not a Longbeard. It was so obvious your loyalties belonged to only your own whims,” Thorin said, “At least that source of betrayal is dead.”

Dís’ clenched hands by her sides shook. “How dare you say that about Víli? He gave up his own clan to be with me. How can you say he did not give his loyalty to you? That I have not given you loyalty? I gave up both of my children to give you heirs and for this quest. How is that not the ultimate loyalty a parent can give?”

“You have a day to leave these halls before you are forced to do so. Take your spawn with you,” Thorin said as he purposefully did not look at Dis, “Get out of my sight.”

Dis bowed stiffly. If she did not comply with his order, she would show she did not view him as her king. “As you wish, your majesty. Tell my brother I wish to speak with him whenever he comes back from whatever pit you’ve thrown him into.”

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The two remaining Dwarves were silent for a long time. Dwalin spoke first. He wished to speak of Dis, but the anger from Thorin on the subject was obvious. Dwalin needed to approach the subject sideways.

Dwalin walked up the steps to stand before his king. “Since when do we forsake our own people? Thorin, they are dying out there.”

“There are halls beneath halls within the mountain. Places we can fortify. Shore up. Make safe. Yes.” Thorin stood up from his throne. “Yes. That’s it. We must move the gold further underground to safety.”

Dwalin said, “Did you not hear me? Dain is surrounded. They are being slaughtered Thorin.”

The king looked at the captain of his guard. Thorin looked drunk and ill. “Many die in war. Life is cheap. But treasure such as this cannot be counted in lives lost. It is worth all the blood we can spend.”

Dwalin’s heart broke. “You sit here, in these vast halls, with a crown upon your head and yet you are lesser now than you have ever been.”

Thorin seemed off balance by what Dwalin said. He backed away slowly. “Do not speak to me as if I were some lowly Dwarf lord...” He covered his eyes with one hand, his voice cracking. “…as if I were still Thorin Oakenshield.”

Dwalin did not move as Thorin pulled out his sword as the king swung widely, completely missing Dwalin. “I AM YOUR KING!”

“You were always my king! You used to know that once. But you cannot see what you have become.” He choked back tears as he saw the wreck that was his friend and king.

Thorin spoke softly, tears brightening his eyes for the briefest of moments. “Go. Get out before I kill you.”

Dwalin took a step back at Thorin’s words. As the shadows covered Thorin’s face again, Dwalin knew Thorin would do as he said.

Dwalin left and pleaded to whatever greater power would listen that they would fix whatever had broken Thorin.

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Thorin staggered across the golden floor near the entrance of Erebor. There was so much of it and it was all his. He had to protect it. He had to…

**Everything I did, I did for them.**

_The gold. All that matters is…_

**You’ve done honorably by our people.**

**** _No. I am not as great as my grandfather._

_I_ **_am not my grandfather._ **

_If you do not protect the gold…_

**You have changed, Thorin.**

**My people offered you help and in return you brought upon them only ruin and death.**

_They have only betrayed you._

**_Loyalty. Honor. A willing heart. I can ask no more than that._ **

**** **If anyone could complete this quest, it would be you.**

**_I am not my grandfather._ **

**** **_I’ll bring us home. I’ll keep us safe._ **

**** **_I am not my grandfather._ **

**** **_I am not my grandfather._ **

**** **_ I am not my grandfather. _ **

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Fili walked down the wall and put her sniper rifle by the side of the staircase as she walked back to the ground floor. “Does anyone have more ammo?”

“I’m afraid not,” Dis said. She fiddled with the fraying fabric of her sniper rifle’s strap, “We only have short range bullets. We will have to switch to arrows once they come closer.”

“Wouldn’t Dain’s Dwarves want to avoid being trapped?” Kíli asked.

“They won’t have a choice,” Dwalin said quietly.

Fili looked up at the sunlight creeping its way into the ruins of Erebor. She turned her attention to the wall and the fighting. “I’m going over the wall,” Fili said quietly. She cleared her throat and said with conviction, “I’m going over the wall; who’s coming with me?”

As some of the Company began to gather up their weapons, their attention was caught by Kíli yelling at their King as Thorin appeared from within the depths of Erebor.

“I will not hide, behind a wall of stone, while others fight our battles for us! It is not in my blood, Thorin,” Kíli said.

The King stopped in front of Kíli and spoke in a low voice. No shadows veiled the older Dwarf’s face. His eyes were clear, kind, and proud. “No, it is not. We are descendants of Durin, and Durin's Folk do not flee from a fight.” The two bumped their foreheads together. Kíli seemed to shake slightly from relief.

Thorin moved past Kíli and went to where Dis stood. “Nothing I said or did was excusable. Anyone with even the barest understanding of loyalty would see you, your children, and your husband have sacrificed everything. All I can do is ask for your forgiveness.”

Dis yanked Thorin’s head down and bumped their foreheads together. “You’re really back.”

Fili leapt forward at the ready for her king. Thorin smiled slightly as he bumped their foreheads together. Fili whispered, “You’re better, Idad?”

“Yes, Fili. I’m better,” Thorin said. He turned to the rest of the Company. “I have no right, to ask this of any of you. Will you follow me, one last time?”

Before he had finished speaking, the Company of Thorin Oakenshield was at the ready to follow their king into battle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This was a weird chapter to write and kind of hard. As someone who has struggled with depression and anxiety, particularly for the past few years, and as someone who has seen loved ones consumed by despair and mental illness, it is difficult to write about as it is so close to me.


	16. Chapter XVI: Empires Fall in Just One Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The King beneath the mountains,  
>  The King of carven stone,  
> The lord of silver fountains  
>  Shall come into his own!"
> 
> But you didn't think it would be that easy, did you?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Chapter title comes from “Ready, Aim, Fire” by Imagine Dragons.

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The Orcs rushed at the pinned Dwarves at the Gate of Erebor. There was nowhere to go. Yet, they stood their ground. And when everything seemed lost…

There was a great shout, and from the Gate came a trumpet call.

They had forgotten Thorin! A giant bell crashed through the make-shift gate of Erebor. When it swung back, out leapt the King under the Mountain, and his companions followed him.

"And the bells shall ring in gladness at the mountain king’s return," Bard whispered.

Dain shouted triumphantly as Thorin ran towards the Orc army, “To the king! To the king!”

The army of the Iron Hills followed the King of Erebor into battle. Thorin yelled, “Du bekar! Du bekar!”

“The Dwarves! They’re rallying!” Bramble said.

“They’re rallying to their king,” Gandalf said.

“It’s Thorin,” Bramble said as she grinned, “He’s not sick. It’s Thorin.”

The battle still raged, but there was a shift in who controlled how the armies moved. It was no longer a one-sided fight.

“They’re doing better,” Bramble said.

“Well, you know what they say about when a good man goes to war and I think we can both agree Thorin is a good man despite his illness,” Gandalf said.

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Thorin heard a familiar battle cry a few yards from him. He said, “Dain!”

Dain gleefully killed more Orcs. “Thorin! Hold on! I’m coming!”

The two of them cut through several particularly troublesome Orcs, killing the last one between them in tandem. The two briefly hugged.

“Cousin! What took you so long!” Dain said with no malice, only joy.

Thorin laughed. “How are Durdona and mini-me?”

“Oh, they’re doing wonderfully. Little Thorin is over there. Yes, the one who just cut off two Orc heads at once. Durdona stayed at the Iron Hills to keep the place running.” Dain sighed. “There’s too many Orcs, Thorin. I hope you’ve got a plan.”

Thorin looked towards Ravenhill. “We’re going to take out their leader, Azog.” He found a Mountain Goat ATV and got on it.

Dain was just as shocked as Thorin had been, if not more so. “Azog?”

Thorin nodded. “I’m going to kill that piece of filth.”

“Thorin, you cannot do this. You’re our king,” Dain said.

“That’s why I must do it. I will not let my actions cost us more lives,” Thorin said.

“And how do you plan to fight your way single-handed to Ravenhill?”

Dis brought an Orc down with her ax. “Cousin! I thought you were fighting a battle, not having tea with my brother. Tell Durdona we’re still up for a girls’ night.” She gave Dain a half hug before climbing aboard the ATV behind Thorin. “You drive, I stab. The rest are behind us.”

“The rest?” Dain said.

One of the tanks tilted and stopped behind Thorin. Fili, Kíli, and Dwalin stuck their heads out and waved to Dain.

“You’re all mad. I like it,” Dain said in good humor. He whispered as they left, “May Durin save you all.”

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Dale had been mostly cleared of Orcs. Many had fled to the main field of battle. The rest had been slain.

“We may yet survive this,” Gandalf whispered to himself.

Bramble saw motorized vehicles make their way up Ravenhill. “Gandalf! It’s Thorin!”

“He’s taking his best warriors,” he said.

“To do what?”

“To cut off the head the snake.”

Bramble huffed. “Because that worked out so well last time. At least Dis and Dwalin are with him to make sure he doesn’t do anything too stupid _again_.”

The wizard put his hand on Bramble’s shoulder about to speak words of comfort when a motorcycle roared towards them. Two familiar Elves rode it.

“Legolas! Legolas Greenleaf!”

Bramble made a face of confusion. “Your name is Greenleaf Greenleaf?”

Legolas ignored the Hobbit as he and Tauriel dismounted the motorcycle.

“Bolg leads a second army of Gundabard Orcs. They are almost upon us,” Legolas said

The wizard looked at the battlefield. “So, this was their plan all along… Azog engages our forces then Bolg seeps in from the north.”

“The North? Where is the North?” Bramble spun around as she took in her surroundings. “Ravenhill. Thorin. Thorin is up there! And Fili, Kíli, Dis and Dwalin! They’re all up there!”

“Kíli?” Tauriel said.

“We have to get the reinforcements to them,” Bramble said.

“Dain is too far from us, but Thranduil is in the city,” Gandalf said, “Legolas, Tauriel, try to find Thranduil and have him help the Dwarves on Ravenhill. Bramble, you are with me.”

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Dis shook her ax of the excess of Orc blood on it. They had met some resistance as they had reached the top of Ravenhill. “Where is he?”

“It looks empty,” Fili said.

“Do you think Azog has fled?” Kíli asked.

Thorin glared at the tower. “I don’t think so.”

Dis pointed to her children. “Fili, take your brother, scout out the towers. Keep low and out of sight. If you see something, do not engage. You come back. Do you understand?”

“Yes, ma’am,” the two said.

Dwalin turned towards an oncoming hoard of Orcs. “We have company. Goblin mercenaries. Nor more than a hundred.”

“We’ll take care of them. Go,” Thorin said.

“Don’t be an idiot,” Dis said as she pulled her children back to face the oncoming Goblins, “We’ll finish these together.”

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An Elf horn rang out. Gandalf and Bramble ran towards the sound. Thranduil stood in his silver splendor surrounded by the dead. Bramble could have sworn he looked to be mournful. The look disappeared when he realized others were with him.

Gandalf bowed his head slightly. “My lord! Dispatch this force to Ravenhill. The Dwarves are about to be overrun. Thorin must be warned!”

Thranduil walked past Gandalf. “By all means, warn him. I have spent enough Elvish blood in defense of this accursed land. No more!”

The wizard went to stop the Elven king, but Bramble spoke up. “I’ll go.”

He snapped, “Don’t be ridiculous. You'll never make it!”

“Why not?”

For the briefest moment, Gandalf was reminded of Bramble as a small child, asking why she could not go on adventures until she was older. “Because they will see you coming and kill you!”

Bramble shook her head. “No, they won't. They won't see me.”

He stood up straighter and deepened his voice. “It's out of the question! I won't allow it.”

She gave a pained, polite smile. “I'm not asking you to allow it, Gandalf.” She slipped on the ring and disappeared.

Gandalf leaned against his staff for a moment, his shoulders slumped. “Forgive me, Belladonna and Bungo.”

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_A waste. The death of immortals for a few moments more life for mortals. A complete and utter waste._

Thranduil killed an Orc who dared crossed his path as the Elf king began to leave Dale. When Thranduil looked up, he saw Tauriel standing in the middle of the road.

“My lord! You will go no further! You will not turn away. Not this time.”

King Thranduil said with exhaustion creeping into his voice, “Get out of my way.”

“There is a second army from the North. The Dwarves will be slaughtered,” Tauriel said.

“Yes. They will die. Today. Tomorrow. One year hence. A hundred years from now. What does it matter? They are mortal.” _They are meant to die. We are not._

The young Elf’s heart was open with the pain of betrayal. “You think your life is worth more than theirs? When there is no love in it? When there is no love in you?”

Thranduil stepped forward so there was little space between them. “What do you know of love? Nothing. What you feel for the Dwarf is not real. Yes, I know of your… flirtation. You think it is love. Are you ready to die for it?”

Legolas leapt down from some rubble. “I will go with her. What you do, my king, is up to you, but I must follow my conscience.”

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After dispatching the Orcs, Fili and Kíli were sent ahead to scout. Dis stood by the river, her bow ready for any trouble which might arise.

Dwalin paced and flipped the axes he held in his hands. “Where is that Orc filth?”

A blur and then a kneeling Hobbit appeared in front of the Dwarves. Bramble dropped Sting, glowing blue where it was not covered in Orc blood. She was out of breath as she said, “Thorin.”

“Bramble!” Thorin said. His face brightened at the sight of the Hobbit alive.

She held up her hands. “You have to leave here. Azog has another army attacking from the North. This watch tower will be surrounded. There will be no way out.”

Thorin pulled Bramble to her feet. She hugged him and he held her back. “Bramble… We’ll get Fili and Kíli out and leave.”

“We’re so close. That Orc scum is in there. I say we push on,” Dwalin said.

“No!” Thorin snapped. “It’s what he wants! He wants to draw us in. This is a trap.”

“By the Maker, Dís has run off to get them,” Dwalin said.

“I’ll get them back,” Bramble said.

Thorin tried to hold her back. “No. You are not trained to…”

She gave Thorin a quick kiss. “Magic ring that makes me mostly invisible, remember?” Bramble said, smiling at him. She cupped his cheek. “I will come back.”

“And I will be there for you,” he said.

Bramble pulled away, grabbed Sting, and slipped on her ring before running towards the tower.

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“Search the lower levels. I’ll come back if I see anything,” Fili said.

“Well that’s a stupid plan,” Dís said.

“Amad!” the two quietly said.

“It’s a trap. We have to get out of here,” Dís said.

Kíli said, “How do you…”

“The Hobbit. She came to help us. Go!” Dís said giving her children a shove towards the entrance they had taken.

There was a shift in the air, a foul smell. Dís pushed Fili and Kíli’s heads down as an arrow whizzed past their heads. “Go! RUN!” She snarled as she pulled out her handgun and shot the Orc in the head. Bullets may not have been as affective as arrows against magical creatures, but they did the same damage to a creature’s head.

Fili and Kíli did as their mother said as any wise Dwarf would do.

As the Dwarves ran from the oncoming hoard, three Orcs appeared from a side passage. All three fell backwards as something seemed to slam into them. One had a slashed throat. Another had a knife in its head. The final one bled excessively from a sudden chest wound.

The Hobbit slipped off her ring and appeared in front of the Dwarves. “The rest of the way is clear. Go!”

Fili and Kíli ran past while Dís yanked Bramble along next to her.

“How did you get in here?” Dís snapped.

“I ran,” Bramble said. She grabbed a rock off the ground.

“I doubt Thorin would…”

Dís ducked as an Orc tried to swipe off her head. Bramble hit it in the middle of its forehead with the stone she had picked up. “I might have discombobulated Thorin.”

The Dwarf would have laughed if she were trying not to feel claustrophobic with how the Orcs seemed to be coming closer. “I did that to Víli once. Actually, that was our first kiss.”

Fili and Kíli ran down a spiral staircase which led to the frozen river. Dís spun around and shot another Orc in the head as she stood by what used to be a door, but was now a straight drop to the river.

“I’m older than I thought,” Dís huffed. She stood firmly with her ax in front of her. “Might as well cover your escape.”

Bramble looked down towards the staircase and towards the hallway. “Dís,” she said as she pulled the ring out of her pocket, “Listen to me, at Bag-End there is a key under the flowerpot on the right, second from the door. Don’t bother knocking. Tell the rest, won’t you?”

Before Dís could ask what she meant, the Hobbit disappeared, and more Orcs came around the corner. The Dwarf killed two Orcs and another died by the Hobbit’s hand before Dís was tackled. Unfortunately, it was through the open doorway which led to a drop.

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The two young Dwarves had just slipped onto the river when they heard a scream and a thump. As they turned the corner, they saw their mother on the river with an Orc she had slashed through the chest with her ax.

Dís looked up, panic in her eyes. “The professor is behind us. She has on her ring. Get to Thorin!”

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Thorin shot an Orc as it tried to sneak up behind his sister. Fili and Kíli scrambled up the stairs next to where Dwalin stood.

“Amad and the professor are behind us,” Kíli gasped.

“At least we live to fight another day,” Fili said.

Dís stumbled on the last step and was caught by Dwalin. “Keep going,” she said, her voice hoarse. She looked up at Thorin and shook her head.

“Where’s the professor? You said she was behind us,” Kíli said.

Before Dís could respond, drums began to beat from within the tower. An Orc yelled a taunt and metal clacked against ice. Sting lay on the frozen river. A blur of color and brown hair tumbled towards the edge of the top of the tower. It stopped just before it fell off.

Bramble looked up, blood dripping from her forehead. “Go. Run!”

The Pale Orc yanked Bramble back by her hair and dragged her to her feet. The Hobbit tried to claw at the Orc, but her nails were blunt from when she had done the same to Smaug.

Azog shouted in Black Speech and grinned as he stabbed the Hobbit in the back. Her eyes closed and Bramble stopped breathing. The Pale Orc dropped her, and she limply fell onto stone.

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Thorin could feel Dwalin dragging him away, but it seemed to be happening to another Thorin. The real one had remained, watching Bramble fall over and over again.

Orcs were coming and he knew they had to keep moving. Some of them still lived. Some of them…

“She’s still breathing!” Kíli shouted as he ran towards the tower.

“No! Kíli!” Fili screamed as she chased after him.

“Idiot,” Dwalin muttered.

Thorin lifted his sword. “We need to get them back.”

In his mind, all Thorin could think was, _Not another one. Please don’t let me lose someone else I love._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: A reminder that I write sins not tragedies. 
> 
> “The bells shall ring in gladness” line is from [these](http://fargreencountryswiftsunrise.tumblr.com/post/105730320933/i-noticed-the-first-time-the-bells-ring-in-botfa#notes) [posts](http://fargreencountryswiftsunrise.tumblr.com/post/105791794418/thorinshielding-and-the-bells-shall-ring-in#notes).


	17. Chapter XVII: The One Star That Keeps Burning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brave and true you may be, but that doesn’t mean you can win against fate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Title is from the song “Remember Me” sung by Josh Groban.

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Kíli climbed back up the tower. He saw the professor gasping after she had fallen. The fog had hidden her partially, but the young Dwarf could see Bramble crawling. Maybe she was still wearing her mithril armor and had not thrown it aside after Thorin had done and said those terrible things to her.

How the professor had survived did not matter now. What did matter was that Kíli could not leave Bramble behind to torment and death.

Orcs jumped out of various entrances to the guard tower on Ravenhill. Kíli sliced and shot through some and ran past others.

A boulder bigger than the size of his head nearly hit Kíli. When it was yanked back, the young Dwarf saw it was Azog wielding a crude mace.

Kíli leapt back and tumbled back off some stairs. “Oh, real graceful,” he groaned as he staggered to his feet.

Azog leapt down from the higher vantage point and brought down his mace once again. Kíli dodged it and attacked Azog.

The Orc easily blocked Kíli’s blows. Azog made Kíli take a step back with each attack.

“Oh, come on. I expected more from you,” Kíli taunted.

Azog swung his mace again and Kíli leapt back. He realized his mistake as he fell for too long and landed on the ice. “Oh, come on. I’m not a Looney Tune.”

Kíli rolled as Azog tried to jump on top of him with his sword.

“Keep moving, Kíli!” Thorin shouted.

The King Under the Mountain leapt at Azog. The Orc blocked the blow, but was forced to step back and use his mace once again. Kíli heard the ice crack.

Fili yelled, “I’m out of arrows!”

“Get your brother out of here!” Thorin said.

“Working on it!” Fili said.

Kíli dodged another blow from Azog’s mace and more ice cracked. Thorin slipped and fell backwards. Azog went for the kill, but Dis leaped at him with her double-headed ax.

The Orc blocked the blow, but had to focus his attention on the female Dwarf.

“You will not take another of my kin from me!” Dis shouted.

Azog shoved her back and swung his mace again and once more. The ice broke apart in some places creating a slippery, tilting battlefield.

Thorin and Dis had to jump back to avoid falling into the river. Dis landed on her back and had the wind knocked out of her. Azog swung his mace at Kíli who dodged it, but slipped on the ice.

The Pale Orc grabbed Kíli by the back of his neck and shoved his head underwater before Kíli could even think to hold his breath. The young Dwarf was certain the cold would kill him before the Orc would. He tried to fight and push back, but he was dizzy from the lack of air and could barely move.

Azog let go; Kíli felt someone pull him back. The cold air bit at his skin, but he could now breathe.

“You’re such an idiot,” Fili muttered as she pulled her brother back to relative safety.

Dwalin, Dis, and Thorin attacked Azog. The Pale Orc finally looked to be ill at ease with the situation. Arrows took down some of his minions. _Elvish_ arrows.

Kíli looked up at saw two archers hidden amongst the towers on Ravenhill. One was blonde, the other brunette with flashes of red.

“Tauriel,” Kíli whispered.

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Tauriel hissed as she looked to the North. The army was now within sight. Some of the scouts were already coming towards them. She reluctantly turned away from the battle and began to take down the Orcs coming after her.

Bats dove down and attacked her. She cut and shot at them. The giant bats were either slain or flew off towards the main battlefield.

The Elf had little time to think about the attack from above now being unleashed on the combatants as Orcs came from all sides.

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Legolas made his way down the tower as he tried to get to Tauriel. She was closer to the new army than the rest of the fighters. The scouts would try to take her out first.

Bats went after him as did a troll. Dwalin assisted in taking down the troll despite one of the bats taking a bite out of his ear.

The Elf prince saw the two young Dwarves staggering to their feet after a bat attack. “Get to Tauriel!” Legolas shouted to the youngest.

The two Dwarves nodded and ran to the North.

Legolas saw an Orc sneak-up behind Dis. He was out of arrows. He threw Orcrist.

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Dis stepped aside as an Orc fell down dead from behind her. Orcrist stuck out of its back.

Azog knocked Thorin’s sword out of his hand. Dis grabbed Orcrist and threw it towards her brother. Thorin deftly grabbed it and continued his fight with Azog.

“Get them out!” Thorin shouted, “Dwalin is with me. Get them out!”

“I’ll be back!” Dis said as she gave Azog one more slash with Thorin’s sword. The Orc blocked it, but did not block the slice Thorin took out of Azog’s leg.

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Tauriel ducked as a particularly ugly Orc nearly took off her head. “You certainly take after your father,” she muttered.

Bolg moved faster than any Orc Tauriel had fought before. Based on what he did to stone when Tauriel missed his blow, she suspected he was also one of the strongest.

The Orc fell to the ground as Kíli tackled him. His sword bounced off Bolg’s minimal armor and caused the Dwarf to lose his sword.

Bolg threw Kíli off him. Tauriel blocked the next attack, but not the one after. She was thrown against a pillar.

Kíli stabbed Bolg’s arm and had his nose broken by the back of Bolg’s hand for his troubles. The Orc grabbed Kíli by his chain mail and lifted him off the ground. Bolg raised his sword. Kíli looked over at Tauriel as the Elf stumbled to her feet.

A heart-wrenching scream was the only warning Fili gave before she slashed Bolg’s leg. The Orc dropped Kíli as he howled in pain. Tauriel shot Bolg in the shoulder.

Kíli was on all fours as he tried to get to his feet. Bolg’s last deed was to stab Kíli in the lower back. The Dwarf rolled over from the force of Bolg removing his sword.

Dis shouted a battle cry as she removed Bolg’s head with one swing of her ax.

Another Orc threw Dis against a pillar, causing the Dwarf to hit her head. She went into convulsions and knew no more.

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Before Fili could get to her mother, Dís’ seizure had stopped. She was still breathing, so Fili focused on the rapidly bleeding Dwarf.

Fili ran over to where Kíli had fallen. Tauriel sliced through three Orcs before making it to where Kíli laid on his back. “Cover me,” the Elf said as she dodged the sword of one of the last two Orcs.

The Dwarf jumped onto the back of one of the Orcs and slit its throat. Using the dagger, she threw it into the head of the other Orc. It collapsed to the ground. Fili grabbed her fallen ax and cut the Orc’s head off to stop the creature’s suffering.

Kíli kept trying to move, but Tauriel held him down. “Lie still,” the Elf said.

“I have to get back into the fight,” Kíli said.

“You are bleeding out and will die unless I treat you, you blasted Dwarf!” Tauriel snapped.

Fili knelt next to Kíli. “Brother listen to her,” she said.

Kíli looked over at Fili. “Where’s Amad?”

“She had a seizure. She is still breathing, but she isn’t awake,” Fili said.

Kíli nodded and tried to get up again, but did not move the most minuscule amount as the two warriors held him down. “I have to help Amad! And what about Thorin and Dwalin?”

“They are great warriors. They will be fine,” Fili said.

“Kíli, move your legs for me, slightly,” Tauriel said. She flinched when she saw him move his feet. “Kíli, how is your eyesight?”

“A little blurry. I feel dizzy,” Kíli said.

She bit her lip and looked up at the sky before looking back at Kíli. “You are bleeding excessively from the wound in your back.”

“Why aren’t you stopping it?” Fili snapped.

“I can, but… I believe your spine might have been injured. Right now, you can move your legs. If I move you now to stop the bleeding, you may not be able to use your lower body ever again. Do you understand?” Tauriel said.

“If you don’t stop the bleeding, I’ll definitely die. I can’t leave all of you. Not yet. Fili can’t even braid her own hair. Who is going to take care of you, Fi?” Kíli said.

Fili pressed her forehead against Kíli’s. “I love you, you know that, right?”

“Love you too, Fi.” Kíli turned his head to Tauriel. “Amrâlimê, do it.”

Tauriel nodded to Kíli and to Fili. “On three. One. Two. Three.”

Kíli screamed for the first few seconds he was turned and became quiet. They had rolled Kíli onto his stomach to have gravity help keep the blood in him. Tauriel prepared the wound and stopped the bleeding with the medicine and bandages in her pack.

“Amrâlimê, help Amad,” Kíli said, “I’m okay. I just need to sleep. I’m so tired.”

“No, you need to stay awake,” Tauriel said, “Fili, get help. This is a temporary fix. I need a surgeon.”

“Be safe, Fili,” Kíli murmured.

Fili pressed a kiss to the back of Kíli’s head. “I will. I promise.”

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The Dwarf dove over a ruined base of a pillar as an Orc shot at her. As she got back to her feet, an Orc knocked Fili’s ax out of her hand. She went for her knife, but was slammed to the ground. An Orc stood on her right hand, crushing bones as he put his full weight on her hand. Fili screeched, but still tried to grab a weapon. The Orc grabbed her hand, pinning her. He knelt as another Orc came towards them with his sword raised.

Fili closed her eyes as the sword fell towards her throat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: A REMINDER THAT I WRITE SINS NOT TRAGEDIES!!!
> 
> The drowning sequence is from [this post](http://fargreencountryswiftsunrise.tumblr.com/post/107232185378/azog-drowns-kili#notes).


	18. Chapter XVIII: Dying on Top of the World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All lives end.
> 
> All hearts are broken.
> 
> [Caring is not an advantage.](https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/51721-the-consolation-of-fairy-stories-the-joy-of-the-happy-ending)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Title chapter comes from the lyrics of “Top of the World” by Greek Fire. Go blame Avelera for posting the evil connection her brother come up with about this song and Thorin. She is on Tumblr, FF.Net, and AO3.

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_Thorin looked at the stone floor in shame, not daring to meet his father’s eyes._

_“What happened?” Thráin asked._

_"_ _It… it’s my fault,” Thorin mumbled, “I should have kept a better watch on him.”_

_"_ _Yes, you should have. Frerin is only five years old and could have been seriously hurt. What happened?” Thráin said._

_“We… I… I was playing with Dwalin. I wanted Frerin to go away because he was pestering me. I didn’t want to play with a baby. I told him to go jump off the staircase to prove he could join us and… and he broke his leg,” Thorin said._

_“And what have you to say for yourself?” Thráin said._

_“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Thorin said, “I won’t let anyone I love be hurt again.”_

_Thráin put his hands on Thorin’s shoulders. “Look at me, Thorin.”_

_The young prince did. His father looked at him sternly, but with so much love it hurt worse than if he had been angry._

_“You are a leader, Thorin. If you do not keep check on your pride, it will hurt those you love. It will be your undoing.”_

_Thorin tried not to cry. He was ten, practically an adult. He should not cry like a baby._

_“No, no. Don’t stop. It hurts to remind you of the wrong done either by you or to you. But from the way I see it, you can either run from the pain or learn from it. What do you think the pain is trying to teach you, Thorin?”_

_The young Dwarf sniffled. “That… that I should be careful with what I say and do because it could hurt the people I love. I need to protect them, even if it hurts me.”_

_Thráin smiled and gave a gentle forehead bump to his son. “Yes, you should.”_

_"I won’t let Frerin ever be hurt again,” Thorin vowed._

_“I wish that was a vow that could be given, but that is beyond our control.”_

_"Then… then whatever I do, I will protect all of you. I won’t let myself come first, even if it’s something I really want.”_

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It was a scream Thorin knew because he had made the same sound when he had seen Frerin cut down. He lost focus for a moment and would have lost his head if Dwalin had not been there.

“Something has happened to Kíli,” Thorin said. He dodged an Orc while Dwalin tried to block Azog’s advance. “Stop them from doing something stupid!”

“And what do you call what you’re doing?” Dwalin snarked.

“Do it! Save them!”

Dwalin snarled, but did as his shield brother asked. Azog laughed and said something in Black Speech.

“Are you so stupid you don’t realize I don’t understand anything you’re saying?” Thorin said.

More Orcs attacked Thorin, but he fended them off and slayed those who got too close. When it was finally just Azog and Thorin, the sound of marching could be heard.

The second army had come.

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_“Thorin, you have to be treated,” Balin whispered._

_The Dwarf prince shook his head as he clung to the broken body of his brother in the healer’s tent. Thorin could not even cradle Frerin’s head it was so unrecognizable. Óin tried to come near Thorin, but each time the prince would shake a dagger at him._

_“Frerin is dead, Thorin. Both of our fathers are dead. Someone needs to lead the people.”_

_“I couldn’t save him, Balin. I deserve to die. This is my fault.”_

_“You did everything you could to…”_

_“I didn’t save him!”_

_Balin’s shoulders dropped in defeat. “I’m going to get Dwalin. You are either going to let him go and get treatment or we will make you let go. I’m sorry, Thorin. Too much relies on your life for niceties.”_

_After a moment of silence, someone said, “Begging your pardon sir, but I’m sorry for your loss.”_

_Thorin grunted in response._

_The Dwarf who spoke knelt across from Thorin. “Sir, we all lost folk, but we still have some alive. You have a little sister, don’t ya?”_

_Thorin froze as he imagined Dis hearing the news of her entire family being slaughtered. She had already lost so much…_

_“Sir, I know the reason I am still standing despite my father dying here today and my cousin all but the same is because I have a little sister too. I think I can guess the princess needs you to come home, sir.”_

_“I can’t… I can’t leave her alone.”_

_“No, you can’t, sir.”_

_Dwalin entered the tent. “Thorin…”_

_It felt like tearing out his soul, but Thorin let go of his brother. “Take care of him, Dwalin. Please take care of Frerin.”_

_“I will,” Dwalin said quietly. He picked up Frerin and cradled him like a small child._

_Thorin looked at the Dwarf who had spoken to him. “Thank you.”_

_The Dwarf tilted his funny hat towards Thorin. “Bofur, always at your service, sir."_

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Another scream was heard from Fili, only this one was of physical pain. No other cry from an ally was heard and it became far too silent. Thorin could only conclude one thing and it nearly broke him if not for how much depended upon him defeating Azog.

Just as with every other encounter, Thorin could barely keep up with the Pale Orc. Azog was faster and stronger. The Orc was better rested while Thorin had fought his way from the gates of Erebor to the top of Ravenhill. The Dwarf had only two advantages: Orcrist affected Orcs more than any other blade he had ever used and Thorin was defending his home.

Azog’s mace kept slamming down, causing the ice around them to crack. The Dwarf was forced to keep rolling along the ice until the two of them were on a tilting ice floe. Thorin could not always get back to his feet.

Thorin finally had a bit of luck. Azog’s mace became embedded in the ice. Thorin clambered to his feet, sword at the ready. Azog tried to move, but was stuck. The Orc’s sword could not reach him nor could Orcrist reach Azog.

They were at an impasse.

Something neither the Orc nor the Dwarf could ever expect happened: the Eagles were coming. The Eagles were _here_.

The golden Eagles swooped past Thorin and Azog and laid waste to the incoming army. Two figures rode them. One looked like an old man. The other jumped off an Eagle and leapt into battle as a giant bear.

Then Thorin got an idea. An awful idea. He got a wonderful, _awful_ idea! A slight tilt of the head was the only warning the Pale Orc had. Thorin yanked Azog’s mace out of the ice and threw it at Azog. The Orc caught it just as Thorin jumped off the ice floe.

Azog fought against sinking, but fell under the ice despite his attempts to save himself. The Pale Orc was gone and Thorin was alone.

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_“Have you forgotten? A strain of madness runs deep in that family. His Grandfather lost his mind; his Father succumbed to the same sickness. Can you swear Thorin Oakenshield will not also fall? Gandalf, these decisions do not rest with us alone. It is not up to you or me to redraw the map of Arda.”_

_Thorin had frozen at the Elf’s words. The Hobbit had heard everything. And yet… yet she remained._

_"Did you not know when you joined this quest?” Thorin asked._

_“I was aware of your Father and Grandfather’s illnesses, yes,” Bramble said._

_“And you joined anyway?”_

_Bramble nodded. Thorin turned away, but Bramble spoke again. “I am not my Mother. I may go on adventures, but I am not her. You love Erebor, just as your Father and Grandfather did. It does not mean you are them. We are to judge people by their own actions and not their forebears.”_

_Thorin turned back around. “And what do you think of me?”_

_“It doesn’t matter what I think. The question you have to ask though is this: do you think this gold sickness will be an issue for you?” Bramble asked._

_Thorin was silent as he gazed at the stream running through the garden. His pride wished to say no, but that same pride made him wary of his own mind. “If I told you I was not sure, would you lose hope for this quest?”_

_“I would trust you more if you told me.”_

_Thorin bent down and whispered in her pointed ear, “I hope not, but I truly do not know. I will fight it with every part of my being”_

_He went to turn away, but Bramble grabbed his arm with both hands. “I will answer your question. You are proud and arrogant which will destroy you if you are not careful. You are grumpy and have high expectations on everyone. The last is also a positive trait as you believe in those no one else will because you see their heart and spirit. I think you are a good man who loves his family, both those who are here and those who are gone. I think you have too great a burden for one person to carry and a part of you has… broken or died because of it. I… I also have faith if anyone could complete this quest, it would be you. Thorin… I believe in you.”_

_The Dwarf king was silent as he examined his burglar. There was no malice or mockery. Just heart-breaking sincerity._

_He gave a self-deprecating smile as he knew he did not deserve such trust. “You have more faith in me than even I do, Bramble. Thank you. I am sorry for what I said earlier.”_

_Bramble squeezed his arm and let go. “I forgive you. Like I said, you have a great burden. Sometimes you will be a bit more paranoid than necessary, but I would rather have that than a leader who is careless. I will do my best to protect this Company. I do mean it.”_

_“And I will protect you,” Thorin said._

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_But I didn’t. I was a greater threat to you than any dragon._

If nothing else, Thorin could find their bodies. They would have a place of rest. He still had strength

Thorin bent down to pick up his sword and saw a pale figure through the ice. Azog’s eyes were still open. Thorin took one step and then another. Azog’s eyes closed.

_It cannot be that easy. Azog can’t be dead. I thought he was dead last time._

A sword came through the ice and into Thorin’s foot. The Orc burst through the ice, knocking Thorin onto his back. Azog went to stab Thorin in the chest, but the Dwarf blocked the blow by catching Orcrist in the slit of Azog’s sword.

They were in a deadlock, but not for long. Azog was stronger. The tip of the sword came closer to Thorin’s heart. The only way Thorin could defeat Azog was to…

“I wasn’t finished with you!” Bramble shouted.

Thorin was _definitely_ dead if he could hear his Hobbit.

Bramble stood at the edge of the river, avoiding putting pressure on her left foot. Sting was in her hands. “Yeah, you, Orc. We didn’t finish our fight. You ran off like the coward you are once the Eagles came around. If you can’t kill one Hobbit, how could you possibly destroy the Line of Durin!”

She pulled out a rock from her pocket and threw it at Azog, hitting the Orc in the head. Azog snarled. The Hobbit limped forward, throwing rocks as she walked. “Fight me! Leave him alone.”

Thorin used the distraction to shove Azog’s sword away from the Dwarf’s heart. Azog felt the movement and pushed down, stabbing Thorin in his right side.

“GET AWAY FROM HIM!” Bramble screamed as she threw every rock she had at the Orc.

Thorin let it seem as if he had died, letting his hand drop from his sword. Azog stalked towards the Hobbit. Bramble kept screaming in rage and despair at the Orc.

“HOW DARE YOU TOUCH HIM! I TOLD YOU TO FIGHT ME! FINISH IT YOU BLASTED EXCUSE FOR AN ORC!”

Thorin rolled over, gasping for air. He grabbed Orcrist and staggered to his feet. The Hobbit almost collapsed in relief, but quickly rallied, trying to not tip off Azog to what was behind him.

Bramble nodded towards Thorin. She turned her eyes to the Pale Orc.

“FINISH WHAT YOU STARTED!” She threw Sting when Azog was a few feet from her.

Azog grabbed the sword just before it hit his stomach, causing him to bend over. The distraction was just long enough for Thorin to cut off the Orc’s head.

As the head rolled away, Thorin looked around and saw the battle with the incoming enemy was being taken care of by the Eagles. He saw Bramble shaking. They both staggered towards each other and embraced. Thorin and Bramble kissed with frantic energy, trying to reassure themselves the other was alive.

“Let’s not do that again,” Bramble said.

“Too much of an adventure for you, burglar?”

“Very much, your majesty. Adventures are never fun when you’re having them. It’ll make a good story though. Blast it, I thought you died.”

Thorin could tell he was losing blood. “Nothing too serious. How are you alive? I saw you stabbed in the back.”

Bramble pulled away and tugged down her shirt collar, showing her armor.

Thorin traced the edge of the mithril vest. “You kept it.”

Bramble blinked in surprise. “Of course. You gave it to me. Why would I ever get rid of something you gave me?” She kissed his cheek. “But it still hurts like you wouldn’t believe and I have splitting headache from the fall. We should get help. Where are the others? I kept passing in and out of consciousness.”

“I don’t know,” Thorin said softly, remembering the screams.

The Hobbit nodded and patted his chest. “Alright. We need more help. I think I can hear someone coming from the main battle and it’s not Orcs.”

They walked to the edge of the waterfall. In reality, it was more that they hobbled towards the edge of the waterfall. The sound of battle was dim and growing quieter as they drew closer.

Bramble said as they walked, “I still hold that strange women lying in ponds distributing swords is no basis for a system of government.

“You consider yourself strange?” Thorin said, wincing at the pain growing in his side.

“Very strange indeed,” Bramble said.

Erebor was not overrun. The Elves, Dwarves, Men, and Eagles killed what little was left of the Orc armies. Thorin could see Dain’s distinct style of fighting even from that distance.

It was becoming harder to stay awake.

The sun shone brightly as the clouds dissipated. The unnatural darkness of the day faded. The air no longer had the chill of winter.

Thorin looked over at Bramble who already looked at him with such trust it nearly broke him. She asked quietly, “Is it over?”

Some Dwarves were making the ascent up Ravenhill. Someone would find Bramble. She would be safe.

Thorin began to fall and felt Bramble catch him to help him lie on the ground.

“Bramble,” Thorin whispered.

“No. Don’t move. Just lie still,” Bramble said as she began to unbutton his chain mail shirt.

Thorin knew this was no ordinary wound. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Shush. It’s okay.” Bramble flinched. “Ugh. Uh… it’s not that bad.” She ripped off her coat.

“I wish to part with you in friendship, dear burglar.” Time was running out. He grabbed Bramble’s hand.

The Hobbit looked up from the wound she was trying to stop with her coat. “No. You’re not going anywhere Thorin. You’re going to live.”

He wished to make amends with all. He was grateful to have spoken to Fili, Kíli, and Dis… before… before they had gone to the Halls of Waiting.

“I would take back my words and deeds at the gate. You did only what a true friend would do. Forgive me, ghivashel. I was too blind to see.”

Bramble shook her head.

“I am so sorry... that I have led you to such peril...” Thorin coughed and nearly passed out from the pain of it.

“No!” Bramble leaned forward and pressed their foreheads together. “I am glad to have shared in your perils, Thorin. Each and every one of them. It is far more than any Baggins deserves.”

Thorin smiled and felt a tear trickle down the side of his face. “Farewell, Professor Burglar. Go back to your books... and your armchair... plant your trees, watch them grow. If more people... valued home above gold... this world would be a merrier... place... I love you… I love you so much…”

Bramble pressed harder against the bleeding wound. “No! No! No! Thorin! Thorin... don't you dare! Don’t go where I can’t follow.”

“Don’t go. Please don’t go,” she begged.

Thorin heard someone shout a word that he had not hoped to hear again. The one that brought him such great joy twice in his life. “UNCLE!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I told you. I write SINS, not TRAGEDIES.
> 
> I may or may not have put a _Lion King_ reference in here. And a _How the Grinch Stole Christmas_ reference. Just saying.
> 
> Where the term [“Thazog on ice” came from](http://fargreencountryswiftsunrise.tumblr.com/post/107814045488/bittersuites-oppuchan-why-is-this-scene-is#notes).


	19. Chapter XIX: You Will Be King Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I write sins not tragedies... but that doesn't mean the road will be easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Title comes from the lyrics of “King” by Lauren Aquilina.

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Bramble blinked once and then again. “Thorin, is your niece riding a bear?”

Thorin kept his eyes on Bramble. “Of the two of us, I thought I would be the one hallucinating.”

“UNCLE!” Fili shouted. She clambered off the bear, skidding on the ice as she fell next to Bramble and Thorin. She clutched her bloodied right hand to her chest. “Uncle, we’re getting help. I promise.”

Thorin could barely lift his other arm and turned his head slightly as he tried to keep his sight on Bramble while looking at his niece. “Fili? You’re alive.”

“Yes. I’m alive. Amad and Kíli are too, but they’re hurt. Amad got hit on the head and had another seizure and we can’t wake her up. Kíli was stabbed and is unconscious. Dwalin is with them as is Captain Tauriel and the Elf Prince,” Fili said.

“We need to get them to a healer,” Thorin said.

“Says the man bleeding out,” Bramble said.

Fili looked at her uncle more closely and put her hand over his wound and applied more pressure. “Uncle. What happened?”

“Azog,” Thorin said.

“Your uncle killed him though,” Bramble said.

“Are we sure?” Fili asked, “No offense uncle.”

“None taken. He is dead unless he can walk around without his head,” Thorin said.

“Good to hear,” Beorn said.

Bramble looked back for a moment and back at Thorin. “Hey, Beorn, can you put on some pants or something?”

“Clothes would hinder my ability to shapeshift,” Beorn said.

“Oh, well…okay then,” Bramble said.

Beorn picked up Thorin with ease. “I will take him to safety. I do not think either of you can lift him.”

“That will not be necessary,” a voice said from the air.

An Eagle landed near them. It shapeshifted into a woman with golden-brown hair and matching eyes who was nearly as tall as the giant Beorn.

“I am Arnbjörg of the Eagles. I am here to assist the wizard’s Dwarf friend,” the woman said.

“Uh… why are there so many naked people?” Fili said.

“I have stopped asking at this point when weird things happen to me,” Bramble said.

Thorin almost snorted a laugh, but he ended up hissing in pain.

“I will carry him and the other two as well,” Arnbjörg said.

Beorn nodded. Arnbjörg changed back into her Eagle form.

Bramble and Fili climbed on top of the Eagle.

“Take care of the others, Beorn,” Fili said.

“I will, lass,” Beorn said as he laid Thorin on the ground so the Eagle could more easily take him to safety.

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Flying would have been exhilarating for Bramble if she was not in the midst of panicking over Thorin. Would he still be awake when they landed? Would he even be alive?

Thorin was placed on the ground near some tents set-up by the entrance of Erebor as a make-shift medical facility. Fili and Bramble slid-off the Eagle. Arnbjörg flew back into the air.

A petite woman wearing the uniform of the Red Tree with blood splattered on her shirt walked towards the small group. “Well, my sisters won’t believe this.” She looked over at Thorin. “I am going to guess the Dwarf is King Thorin? And you’re the Hobbit? And one of the Dwarves of his Company?”

“Yes, this is Fili, his heir. Please help them,” Bramble said.

“No, don’t worry about me,” Thorin muttered as he tried to sit up. He failed at moving more than his head.

“None of that,” the woman said as she knelt next to him. She looked up and shouted, “I NEED A STRETCHER!” She cleared her throat. “Now, tell me what happened.”

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Thorin was moved into a tent as they waited to get the next available surgeon. Kíli and Dis were laid out next to him once they had been brought down from Ravenhill. Dwalin paced nervously between the beds.

“What about Fili and Bramble?” Thorin asked.

“They can walk and breathe. Fili’s hand can be fixed up later,” the Red Tree woman said.

“And I have had a concussion and a sprained ankle before, dear Dwarf,” Bramble said quietly as she stroked his hair.

“What is the Red Tree doing here? They stay out of battles if they can,” Dwalin said.

“Well, we were already here because of Laketown. The battle happened so quickly, we couldn’t get help. It will still be a few hours before more help comes as the Americans are mucking things up at the borders,” the woman said, “My boss, Ecthelion, and I are the only ones to have fought in a war before. We’ve been directing things amongst the different factions. So far, the Elves have been keeping to themselves.”

“What’s your name?” Bramble asked.

“Ioreth, ma’am. If you’ll excuse me, I can hear more wounded being driven in.” She gave a brief bow before leaving the tent.

Bramble saw a flash of silver armor and blonde hair walk past the tent. “Thorin, I’m going to get help.” She kissed the top of his head. “I’ll come back.”

The Hobbit ran out of the tent and after the Elf King. “King Thranduil! Stop! I need to talk with you!”

The Elf glanced back, but did not stop walking. “I have no time for whatever it is you wish to speak with me, Halfling.”

“I do not have time either. I need your healers to stay. The Red Tree and the Dwarf Healers are overwhelmed. We need your assistance.”

“I have already stayed here too long,” Thranduil said.

“You have to stay to help.”

“I do not have to do anything.”

“I cannot believe you have no conscience. I have met your son. He’s a good man. He helped others when there was no gain in it for him. I can only assume he learned it from you or someone close to you.”

The Elf paused for a moment, but continued walking. Bramble grabbed Thranduil cloak and yanked it just hard enough to get the Elf’s attention.

He stopped and turned around. He looked ready to snark some comment or other, but looked surprised. “Where did you get that chain mail?”

The Hobbit self-consciously adjusted the mithril vest. “Thorin gave it to me.”

“When?”

“It feels like ages ago, but he gave it to me as a gift yesterday,” Bramble said. She shifted from foot-to-foot under Thranduil’s scrutiny, wincing at the pain.

“When he was still ill?”

“Yes, though I don’t see what it has to do with anything. He gave it to me because he wanted me to be safe. I’m not a warrior and have little understanding in how to defend myself.”

The Elf King spoke in Sindarin. “ _Do you know what the vest is worth?”_

“ _Um… a bit more than gold? I thought it was an old version of platinum,_ ” Bramble said, “ _It’s rather useful, though I still feel ridiculous._ ”

" _And you came to us to save your Dwarves without knowing the value of the gift?_ ”

“ _Of course. Why wouldn’t I? I love them. They’re my friends. Thorin… I love him dearly too, though a bit differently than the rest._ ”

Thranduil spoke to his aide. “ _Tell the healers to assist the doctors here and set up a watch with the surviving soldiers._ ”

The aide bowed and ran to deliver the orders. Bramble blinked rapidly. “ _Did I miss something?_ ”

The Elf leaned down and whispered to Bramble, “ _That little vest of yours is worth three times that of your home._ ”

“More than Bag-End?” Bramble gasped.

Thranduil smiled ever so slightly. “No, three times than the Shire and all its holdings.”

Bramble put a hand to her head. “Uh… well… I, um… I think I will go sit down now.”

“Do you know what it means for him to give it to you?”

“Uh, I, I think… um… oh good gracious. I think I might know.”

“It is a betrothal gift,” Thranduil said.

Bramble made a squeaking noise. “Don’t you mean engagement gift?”

“No, betrothal,” Thranduil said.

The Hobbit swayed. “Oh, that majestic idiot. Excuse me.”

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Bramble ran back into the tent and was relieved to see Thorin still breathing. Fili looked over at the Hobbit. “Professor? Are you alright? Do you need…”

“I need to know when I have been half-married Thorin. We Hobbits don’t have betrothals!” Bramble said as she went to Thorin’s side, “I don’t know about Dwarf marriage customs you beautiful moron.”

Thorin turned his head towards Bramble. “I thought you understood. I had been trying…”

“Trying since less than a day after we made ourselves even remotely clear about our feelings,” Bramble said, “You didn’t stop to think I wouldn’t understand your gifts?”

Thorin swallowed. “I’m sorry.”

Bramble rubbed her eyes. “I wish we had more time. We haven’t had time. Hobbits don’t… we spend a good bit of time getting to know one another romantically before getting to that part.”

“You don’t have Ones? You didn’t know if we were meant to be with each other? To be Ones?” Thorin asked.

“I don’t any more than any other Hobbit. It’s a bit of faith, really,” Bramble said.

“Soulmates is the best translation,” Dwalin offered.

“Oh… that’s… that’s not something we can just _know_ ,” Bramble said, “But Dwarves know?”

Thorin nodded. “I knew when I awoke from the Halls of Mandos, but having a One does not mean you are that person’s One.”

An Elf entered the tent. “We are going to be able to take him to surgery in five minutes.”

Two Dwarves hobbled into the tent. Dain leaned against a tall, blonde Dwarf in armor. The blonde Dwarf shoved the Elf aside.

Dain said, “What is that pointy-ear creature doing here?”

“I asked the Elves to help with the wounded,” Bramble said.

“And what right do you have to decide my cousin’s care?” Dain said.

Thorin barked out something in Khuzdul which seemed to confuse Dain. The Lord of the Iron Hills laughed. “You have the worst timing cousin!”

Fili spoke in a low voice to Thorin in Khuzdul. Bramble only understood her name, Gandalf’s name, and something about Erebor.

“It is not my decision to make, Fili,” Thorin said.

“THEN ASK HER! I’ll get the wizard,” Fili said, “Professor, please say yes. Uncle loves you and you love him. We need your help and I can’t do this alone if… no. It won’t happen. This is just temporary.”

Thorin looked ready to protest before he clutched his wounded side in pain. Fili left the tent as did the Elf. Dain and the other Dwarf came closer to Thorin. “What can we do for you?” Dain asked.

Bramble felt Thorin grab her arm. “Dwalin, you are to look out for Fili.”

“Aye, I’ll do that,” Dwalin said.

Thorin turned his head to Dain. “No matter her answer, you are to protect Bramble. She is my One and she will be kept safe, even if it is just to escort her back to the Shire.”

“It will be done,” Dain said, “Thorn, would you be willing to be this Hobbit’s bodyguard?”

“Aye, sir,” the blonde Dwarf said.

“Thorn will keep an eye out for your, Hobbit,” Dain said.

Bramble nodded, aware of what Thorin would ask her.

Thorin cleared his throat and had a coughing fit which made him bleed more. “Bramble, I would wish to ask this under better circumstances under the customs of your people as I did not make it clear to you before. I would not wish to leave this world without you knowing how much you mean to me.”

Bramble moved so she could lean over Thorin. “Are you seriously asking for a death bed wedding? Because I won’t say yes to that.” She put the acorn she had kept in her pocket throughout the battle into Thorin’s hand. “In the Shire, we make a home and plant a garden or make plans for them when we propose. So, we are going to make that plan. This breed of oak tree can grow even in deserts with the right care. Erebor can be made a home with hard work and love. So, Thorin, I am asking you to marry me because I know you will live to plant your trees and watch them grow. Will you spend the rest of your life with me?”

Thorin gritted his teeth from the pain of his wounds, but the look of love in his eyes was obvious. He nodded his head.

“Good.” Bramble pressed a light kiss to his lips.

Gandalf entered the tent with Fili. The wizard had his left arm in a sling. “I see you have decided to go a bit untraditional in this. No flowers or jewels in sight. Not quite what you two imagined, I suppose.”

“None of that now, Gandalf,” Bramble said, her voice shaking, “Nothing has gone as imagined since you brought this majestic idiot to my classroom and you know it.”

The wizard sighed. “Well, we have enough witnesses to proceed.”

Thorin took one of Bramble’s hands in his, the acorn held by both of them. “I will mend things with you, Bramble. I will make this right and give you everything you deserve. Not this hurried affair when I have not apologized for all the ills I have done to you.”

“I already forgave you, you know. We will make all things right once you wake up,” Bramble said.

“PROFESSOR! WHERE IS THE PROFESSOR?” Bofur shouted from outside.

“In here, Bofur!” Fili said.

The miner stumbled into the tent, a nasty gash was on his right arm, but he was otherwise unharmed. “Oh, professor, I’m so glad you’re alive. I can’t find anyone else. It’s a right mess out there. What’s wrong with you, Thorin? Where are the others?”

“Kíli and Dis are in surgery. Uh, Bofur, I need to ask a favor of you,” Bramble said.

“Anything, lass,” Bofur said.

“Let me explain. No, there is too much. Let me sum it.” Bramble took a deep breath. “Thorin and I are going to get married and I want you to be a witness. I’ve already forgiven him for what happened, and we will deal with the rest once he’s healed. I’ll explain more later, but he is about to go into surgery. Will you do it?”

Bofur nodded though there was a wariness about him. “Aye, sister. I’ll do it for you.”

Gandalf spoke in Khuzdul. Bramble slowly repeated the words the wizard prompted her to speak. She knew some words about love, protection, and treasures. The rest she had no time to analyze. She hoped her intentions would come through. If Thorin’s look of wonder was anything to go by, it seemed it did. Thorin tugged at Bramble’s sleeve and they kissed. He slipped his signet ring on her thumb.

“Yâsith,” Thorin whispered.

Dwalin coughed out a word and Bramble repeated it. “Yâsun.” She gave another kiss.

Thorin smiled broadly in a way she had not seen since she had first shown him the acorn. “Definitely want more.”

“You are going to have to come back.”

“I will come back.”

“And I will be there for you,” Bramble said.

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The Elves took Thorin away to surgery before another word could be spoken. The rest limped or staggered to the central command tent. They found Thranduil, Bard, a male American soldier, a blonde female member of the Red Tree, and several Dwarf lords arguing around a table.

“What seems to be the problem?” Fili said.

“Nothing to worry about, ma’am. Everything is under control,” the American said.

“I am here as one of my uncle’s representatives. You will tell me what is happening,” Fili said.

“ _One_ of your uncle’s representatives?” the woman from the Red Tree said.

Dain tried to stand on his own, but nearly fell if not for Thorn’s quick reflexes. “One, yes. May I present to you Thorin’s wife and the Queen of the Lonely Mountain, Bramble Baggins of Erebor.”

The Hobbit nodded her head ever so slightly before addressing the group. She clutched the acorn in her hand “We have a long road ahead of us, ladies and gentlemen. We have made it through the battle, but the wounded need to be cared for, the dead put to rest, shelter to be decided upon, as well as the distribution of food. That is just what we need to decide upon in the next few minutes. There are also greater issues such as alliances and territories to deal with. Two kingdoms have been formed today from the ashes of a dragon’s destruction. I believe we can have a bright future together, but only if we act as neighbors ought to. What say you?”

The Dwarf lords were clearly confused by the Hobbit’s presence. The two humans Bramble did not know looked at her warily. Thranduil was unreadable as he almost always was. Bard observed the other’s reactions before she said, “I am glad to see you are well, your majesty. I wish for your family’s speedy recovery.”

Bramble nodded her acknowledgment. The rest murmured the same or fetched chairs for the newcomers.

Bofur whispered to Bramble, “Long live the queen.”

“None of that now,” Bramble said, “We have much more work to do.”

Fili took Bramble arm. “Long live the king?”

Bramble gave a polite smile as she blinked back tears. “Yes. Long live the king.”

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**TO BE CONTINUED**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Just a reminder, I write sins not tragedies. Up next will be Part IV of An Unexpected Road Trip: Plant Your Trees. If I am for some reason unable to write it out fully, I will post an outline for Part IV.
> 
> Translations of Khuzdul - Thanks to khuzdul4u on Tumblr  
> Amad - Mother.
> 
> Yâsith - Wife.
> 
> Yâsun- Husband.


End file.
